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#caught in 4k looking at his lips
grogumaximus · 2 months
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*Literally less than 1 second later*
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🤨 📸 
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diejager · 10 months
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Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1
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Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader
Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K
I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.
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You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.
You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 
Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 
Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.
“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”
You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 
Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.
You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 
His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 
You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 
If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 
His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.
He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.
He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 
He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 
If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 
You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 
It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.
It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.
Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 
You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 
“Are you happy, Schatz?”
His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 
“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.
Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 
You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 
Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.
König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 
He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.
Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 
You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 
“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”
Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 
Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 
How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 
Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 
“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 
When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 
He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 
He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 
Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 
It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 
“This way.”
Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 
He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 
He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 
He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 
“You’re happy, ja?”
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Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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lightning strike | h. iwaizumi
✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+
✮ wc ; 4k (???????)
✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi
pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while
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He’s nervous.  
So nervous. 
You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.  
“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”  
He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”  
“How is she by the way? Still good?”  
Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.  
“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”  
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”  
The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.  
“Going steady? Seriously?”  
“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”  
His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,  
“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face. 
“No, you don’t.”  
He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch  
The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.  
It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.  
You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.  
Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.  
(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.) 
You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.  
Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.  
But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.  
He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.  
You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee. 
You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.  
“Come ‘ere.”  
He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.  
The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.  
“Sorry,”  
You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”  
“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”  
“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”  
He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.” 
You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.  
“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”  
You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.  
Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.  
You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”  
“Yeah?”  
You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”  
He gives you a weighted hum. 
His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.  
He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.  
“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.  
You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”  
“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”  
Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.  
But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.  
“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”  
He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.  
“Me too,” 
He calms down when you get it..  
“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”  
You think on it.  
“Since we were fifteen?”  
“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”  
“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”  
The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.  
His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”  
“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”  
“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.  
He doesn’t say anything after that.  
Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .  
The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you. 
His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”  
“Fuck. Don’t say that.”  
“Hajime, please.”  
You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.  
You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.  
You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down. 
He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”  
You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.  
Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.  
His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.  
“Staring,”  
He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”  
“Take yours off,” You plea. 
He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench. 
 Too much.  
 The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”  
His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. 
 Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.  
“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”  
There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.  
You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.  
“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”  
“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘ 
“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”  
You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his  He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.  
“Tell me if it’s too much,”  
You don’t get a chance to ask about it.  
The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.  
There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you.  The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.  
The thought overwhelms and you gasp.  
You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.  
Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.  
He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure,  animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.  
You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.  
You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.  
“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”  
“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.  
Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.  
You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway. 
 You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.  
You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.  
“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.  
“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”  
He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”  
You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”  
“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”  
You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.” 
He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”  
He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”  
You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”  
He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.  
You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later. 
 The clock hasn’t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.  
Now and always.  
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beomie3 · 1 year
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2am ☽༓・*˚⁺
bf!beomgyu x fem!reader
warnings: smut, reader is super horny n desperate for beomgyu at 2am, make out, oral f!recieving, face sitting, use of vibrator, safe(ish) sex, praise kink? cum eating, they are super messy lol.
wc: 4k
♫ title track: 2am - che ecru
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ ・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
thunder rumbles overhead and you're still restless under the sheets, thinking about the way beomgyu looked in his tight jeans today; the way his bulge naturally poked out a little too much to go unnoticed by you. you just wanted to palm him through his jeans, see that fucked out half-open smile when he's falling apart under your touch.
you replayed scenarios in your head, imagining all of the dirty things you would've done to him when you two sat on the couch earlier playing charades instead of fucking, which you so needed right now. nonetheless, you still had tons of fun with him earlier, you were just horny as hell right now lol.
you rubbed your thighs together at the dirty thoughts replaying in your mind as beomgyu lay "sound asleep" next to you, not knowing that his eyes had fluttered open moments ago from your sudden squirming. he had fallen asleep a while ago, lulled by your warmth and the whir of soft thunder and rain at your window, but here you were wide awake.
he turned around from being little spoon, suddenly facing you with slightly tired eyes, lips puffy from sleep, heavy head propped on his sandwiched hands. you just wanted to crash your lips to his, press your body so tightly to his and tangle all of your limbs together. but you feared maybe he wasn't in the mood and you didn't want to wake him any further.
but oh hell, did beomgyu know that horny look on your face; the way your eyes slightly narrowed with unholy thoughts behind them, subtle flush on your cheeks, body warm and threatening to break out in a sweat.
if it wasn't for your squirming, beomgyu would probably still wake up because of how hot your body temperature was, practically screaming out for some sexual attention.
oh yes, he noticed all of these things about your current state but he remained innocent, acting like he had but a clue in the world to what you were experiencing. just staring at you with tired puppy eyes barely visible in the warm glow of your night light.
"what's wrong baby?" he cooed in his deep, sleepy voice, not intending to turn you on the amount that it did. your legs were shut so tight, slick wetness beginning to seep past your panties and onto your thighs. oh was beomgyu in for a wet surprise.
"i-" you struggled to find the right words to say without saying what you really wanted to say; fuck me right now beomgyu, i need you inside me at this instant!
instead you searched his eyes with a half open mouth, the words caught in your throat and having to clear it a couple times. noticing your struggle to admit your horniness, beomgyu began trailing his fingers up your thigh, feather soft, making it even harder to speak out.
"it's okay baby, just say it. say whatever you want to say," his pinky finger began lightly prodding at your hot and throbbing clit through the wet fabric, stifling a moan as he ever so slowly slipped his pinky past the elastic of your underwear.
"you looked so good today beomgyu. so fucking- hah," you were halted when he pressed his pinky to your absolutely drenched core, circling around your entrance without any added pressure.
"continue on my love, i'm interested," he was beginning to tease you, slowly inserting the tip of his pinky into you as you tried to form coherent sentences, already fucked out by his pinky. barely his pinky.
"i've just...been thinking about being stuffed with your cock all night and i thought i could make it through the night but i can't- i just can't gyu," you moaned out his name at the end, as he had slipped a hand under your (really his) baggy shirt and began circling your nipple with his cold fingertip until it was perky, pelting your entire body with chills.
"you need me to stuff you full of my cock? you could've just said that earlier baby," his deep voice trickled into your ear as he pressed a light kiss to your jaw in the dark, his entire hand already drenched by your juices as he hadn't even done much down there except prod at your clit and slightly finger you with one pinky. you nodded furiously.
"i can do that. i can do double that," he kissed your jaw again, reaching over you and into the drawer of the bedside table to pull out the pink vibrator you both kept there to use during frisky times like these.
he sensed just how badly you needed to be fucked, practically wetting the bed with your arousal and exuding feverish amounts of body heat with how horny you were. he'd be sure to give you the night you needed. give you everything he had in him; even bringing in the help of a toy, turning you on so much you nearly felt dizzy. beomgyu to the rescue!
and so he started out slow, leaning on his elbow next to you as he peeled back the sheets over your bottom half, rubbing the vibrator that had yet to be turned on over your underwear, making you whine out.
but you enjoyed the anticipation, moaning against his lips as you passionately made out. desperately tugging on the fabric of his plain black shirt. he got the memo and slid it off, running your hands down his warm, delicious skin, desiring to press your soon to be naked body to his so badly.
the pace of your make out was quickened as you sat up and he followed, pulling your night shirt off and abandoning it to the side, savoring your hot skin with his hands as he smoothed them over your chest, back, and waist.
you held his face as you kissed him, becoming rougher as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sucking at his plump lips. fuck- he was so delicious you just couldn't think straight, head buzzing with euphoria as you pressed your bare chest to his and felt the warmth seep from his skin, nipples perky against him.
you sat onto your knees with your ass in the air to help him slide your panties off, not noticing the strings of wetness clinging to the wet fabric in the dark, but then you immediately felt the cold air hit your wet thighs, making you aware of just how drenched you were.
"how are you this fucking wet? i love it," he nearly moaned against your neck as you leaned over him, collecting some of your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, quickly crashing his lips back onto yours with sloppy tongue so that you could taste yourself on his lips.
"don't you taste so good?" he pulled away, gazing up at you starry eyed as you bit your lip and smiled, seeing his white teeth slightly peek through his lips in the dim light.
you were on all fours leaning over him, ass still in the air and he took advantage of this by sitting up on his knees, hand firm on your back to keep you in this position.
he turned the vibrator on but took his time nearing it to where you needed it most, watching you writhe as he placed it onto your leg, ass cheek, everywhere BUT your soaked and neglected pussy. you were on the brink of frustration, moaning and clenching around nothing desperately to notify beomgyu of how needy you were.
he was enjoying this; lip between his teeth, conscious of the throb in his dick as it lay flush against his stomach under his plaid pajama pants. he also couldn't wait to fuck you, but he wanted to treat you to as many orgasms as he could before it was his turn to stuff you with his cock as he had promised.
finally, the vibrator reached your clit as he held it between your legs from behind, your back arching as you let out a loud moan, head thrown back and hair messy over your face. it felt so good, especially the feeling of beomgyu's attentive eyes on you, controlling the speed and placement of the toy against your desperate clit.
wetness dribbled down your thigh, serving as beomgyu's cue to lick it up and savor more of your taste because he loved it, situating himself behind you and starting to lick up your thighs. you grew louder as he began to eat you out from the back, still holding the vibrator to your clit as he fucked you with his tongue, cursing at the sheer pleasure.
he too began to moan at how hot this was; you on all fours, ass in his face as he ate you out while double stimulating you, now triple stimulating you as his moans also vibrated against your entrance and had you nearly screaming.
you cried out incoherent sentences as he sucked the juices from your entrance, eyes rolling back as you were so close to snapping. you yelped when he turned the vibrator speed up a notch higher, right up against your swollen clit as you came hard, clenching around nothing but his tongue that was there to catch your juices as you rode it through your waves of pleasure.
so not to overstimulate you, he pulled the vibrator away from your wet folds and over to your nipples, perking up at the vibration over them.
you hung your head, nearly falling over from the instant fatigue after coming so hard. but he kept you there with a firm hand on your hip, kissing and licking your skin like it was an ice cream; tongue trailing all around your thighs, ass, and back, licking a long stripe to your ear as he gently nibbled on it and sent chills darting up your spine in small waves.
he rolled the vibrator off to the side, quickly sliding himself under you and helping you to straddle him, to which you immediately began messily undoing the strings of his pajama pants.
he lifted his hips and slid his fuzzy pants down along with his boxers, stained heavily with precum as he had grown painfully hard at the sight and sounds of you so needy for him.
the two of you were beautifully bare now, and you lowered your hips down to his, sitting on the underside of his warm, throbbing and rock hard dick, causing both of you to breathlessly moan out when you began to grind on it, whimpering when the rim of his tip perfectly massaged your aching clit.
slick sounds filled the room and you picked up the pace with the guidance of his firm grasp on your hips, already feeling the urge to come again just by the sensation of his warm cock sliding through your puffy folds perfectly.
"wait baby," he slowed your back and forth movements on his dick and looked up at you with his beautiful brown, doe eyes; both love and lust shining in their depths.
"come on my face?" he tilted his head slightly and you could just melt on sight. he was just too perfect and cute for this world, asking you for something so nasty, but sounding like the best idea in the world.
you smirked and leaned down to kiss him, his soft hand coming up to cup your cheek, tongue entering your mouth as it quickly got heated and his dick was prodding at your entrance. as badly as you just wanted to slide him inside of you, he made you wait for it which made it even better, like the cherry on top of all the foreplay.
using his hands to guide your hips, he groped at the plush of your ass, tracing little soothing circles over the red skin after squeezing it so hard. you crawled on your knees to position yourself over his pretty face, knees sinking into the pillows on either side of his dark head of hair.
he looked up at you like you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, using his thumbs to spread your wet folds open as he licked his lips at the delicious sight, a low rumble in his throat as he groaned, hungry for you.
sitting down on his face with the guidance of his hands on your hips, he began to go at it; licking and sucking and slurping and making out with your lower lips, throwing your head back with a loud moan with how fantastic he was. sliding his fingers up and down your waist, pinching at your nipples to add to the pleasure.
while he was busy eating you out like you were the best meal he's ever had, you reached over to grab the vibrator, turning it on the lowest setting and reaching behind you to run it up the length of his cock, leaving it on his tip and he moaned into your folds.
he wasn't expecting to be teased back but to say he enjoyed it was an understatement. he fucking loved the sensation against his throbbing head mixed with your taste all over his mouth. and you loved it too, tongue stuffed so deep into you that you could feel his moans vibrate into you, lightly grinding your hips against his tongue to fuck yourself with it.
it wasn't long before you were completely riding his face, both fucked out of your minds as he mumbled incoherent words against your slick folds, lapping and flicking his tongue across your clit messily as he held it firm for you to use like a toy, so so close to unraveling all over him.
"how are you so fucking good beomgyu?" you moaned out, and you were sure the neighbors would probably know his name by now. the sound of you moaning his name like that, praising him and all, had him thrusting his hips up and into the vibrations on his tip, on the verge of exploding all over his own tummy.
all he could do was moan out, looking up at you with pleasure filled eyes, furrowed eyebrows as you rode his face, fingers interlaced with yours and palming your ass together as you felt your core reach its all time high, tightening around his tongue stuffed deep into you, coming all over his face as he sucked and lapped up your juices; the sounds of your lewd moans and whimpers having him drizzling warm cum all over and making a mess of his tummy and spilling over onto the sheets.
catching your breath and crawling in front of his thighs, you used your fingers to scoop up his cum, sucking your fingers clean of the slightly salty liquid, leaving him infatuated; eyes glued to you as he propped himself up on his elbows.
you licked his lower abdomen up completely, cum decorating your lips as you ran your tongue around to savor every last drop, his heart pounding at how hot you looked doing so. his body was about as hot as yours now, jaw slack as he stared at you in awe as you sucked your finger suggestively, intense eyes on his.
"you're so hot." he breathlessly mumbled, wetting his lips with the dart of his tongue over his open mouth, sweat beading at his forehead and daring to drip down onto his flushed, glimmering face. what a beautiful sight it was from your angle.
"says you," you still had your wits about you even after being drunk off of him, both looking at each other fucked out as ever.
he couldn't contain the sudden urge to manhandle you, suddenly sitting up and crashing his lips to yours as he secured an arm around your waist and hips, quickly flipping you over onto the bed so that you lay under him, pinning your hands down and above your head and interlacing them with his.
butterflies darted down your spine and into your stomach at his sudden assertion of dominance, melting against his warm body; willing to do anything and everything for this boy.
his sweet scent wafted into your nose and you felt right at home; arching your back up and into him to be as physically close to him as humanly possible.
"you wanna be stuffed with my cock hm?" he nudged your jaw with his nose and you could feel his smirk on your skin; moving your head aside to give him the access of your neck, blowing cool air into your ear and shivering as it traveled down your steaming skin. he just knew all the right things to do to have you so overcome with such hot arousal.
and holy shit, the way his voice turned you on was a whole other story; whimpering and squirming under his body and wrapping your arms and legs all around him. it simply melted you like honey, seeping into your brain and had blood rushing directly to your clit. so breathy and deep and amazing. and hearing his moans in your ear? you just couldn't wait to hear him moaning all loud like he always does when he's fucking you good.
"please gyu," you nodded, hair staticky against the pillow as your locks fanned out all over it. leaning down, he took your cute tits into his mouth, drunk on the way he swirled his tongue around each bud, subtly rutting his hips against yours; cock flush against your folds and threatening to slip inside at any moment.
he tapped his tip against your clit, releasing a mewl from your lips. you really thought he was going to fuck you in this position, but you thought wrong. suddenly, he picked you up and flipped you over again so that you lay on your stomach, hand firm on your lower back to keep you there.
he watched you for a moment from his vantage point, the way your pretty side profile was visible as you lay your head on the pillow, attractive back that just called his chest to lay flush to it, cute ass in full display as you slightly wiggled it in anticipation.
he palmed your plush cheeks with both of his warm hands, kneading the skin deliciously and sliding them up your back. pressing them by your sides as he lowered himself down, warm chest pressed to your back, lips right next to your ear now as his warm breath spilled into the shell.
he hooks your left leg so that the back of your knee is held with his the bend of his elbow, chin resting on your shoulder with gentle kisses to your skin. the moment you've been waiting for arrives; he takes his cock and circles the tip around your slippery entrance before sliding it into you so slowly, stretching you out deliciously.
you moan loudly into the pillow, ass pressing into his stomach as he's all the way in, so deep inside of you that you can feel the weight of his balls on your clit, walls clenching him so tightly; causing him to twitch and whimper into your ear. you bury your hot face into the cold pillow, heart racing at the sound of his sexy moans and whimpers melting into your brain.
he thrusts are deep and slow until he starts slightly picking up his pace into a rhythmic pattern, rolling his hips against the plush of your butt as the subtle sound of slapping skin and both of your moans fill the room in harmony.
"this what you needed baby?" he coos against your ear out of breath, voice sweet and fanning across your skin.
"yes beomgyu oh- fuck yes," you moan out repeatedly, so dumb on his cock that you could hardly form a coherent sentence. he has an idea that will get you even more fucked out, reaching over to grab the vibrator, placing it against your swollen clit, leg still hooked in his arm and lifted at the perfect angle.
your legs begin to shake as he simultaneously ruts his perfect dick into you, hitting your g-spot as he also satisfies your clit with the delicious buzz. you can't stop moaning his name; wanting to moan his name indefinitely because of how it rolls off your tongue just perfectly.
his brown hair is messy over his sweaty forehead as you turn to look at him; his mouth half open, lips glossy and half lidded eyes, absolutely pussy drunk.
he looks so fucking hot, so perfect and sexy that you don't think twice before pulling his neck to you with your free hand, sucking his lips into a hot make out, strings of saliva connecting you when you come up for a breath.
it's not long before sweat is dripping down his neck and down onto your back, slapping sounds against your ass and high-pitched moans loud enough to be heard well outside of the room.
he turns the vibrator up one more notch, eyes rolling back in your head as you feel overtaken with everything he's giving you, his moans growing louder as he can feel the vibrations through your walls and onto his cock.
"your pussy's so perfect baby. you're so perfect and you're all mine hah-," he deeply chuckles into your neck, sucking marks onto the skin, biting your shoulder gently but sure to leave a mark when he realizes just how close he is.
cursing against your back he holds your hip in place, judging by how loud and shaky you're growing, you'll come at any moment as well. his grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips, marking you his.
nothing but i'm so close with spews of filthy words and each other's names exiting one another's mouths fill the room. his tip kissing the deepest part of you with every single thrust.
"cum all over me gyu, decorate me in your cum," you moan out as you feel him violently twitch inside you, that being the last straw before you're gripping the sheets so hard you could rip them, vigorously fluttering and clenching around his cock as you orgasm, entire body shaking.
"yeah? i can do that, watch me." he moans out of breath as he turns your chin to watch him; giving you two final thrusts before he pulls out, releasing so much cum all over your ass and back, its warmth inviting chills to the surface of your skin.
his head is thrown back, mouth open and adam's apple bobbing up and down as he moans your name mixed with profanities and other incoherent words. a sheen of sweat covers his entire body that's on full display for you, stomach tensing as he finishes releasing onto you. your insides continue to flutter, cheeks flushed from both sweat and because of how sexy he is, simply not able to take it anymore.
you collapse onto the bed and he follows right on top of you, making a mess of his own seed on himself, smearing between your back and his chest, not giving a shit about it with how fucked out you both were.
you thought you might be done, but you were only getting started.
it's three hours later and the two of you have been fucking all night, going as many more rounds as you could both muster. him on top of you, you on top of him, sideways, legs over his shoulders and nearly behind your head, legs pressed to your chest, hands above your head, hands tangled in his hair.
soft, hard, intimate, catching one another's moans in your mouths, lips puffy and red by now with nonstop making out.
and by the time you collapsed on top of him with your nth orgasm, the birds were chirping outside as the sun slowly began peeking it's bright eye through the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin and onto the now disheveled and sticky sheets.
panting and absolutely out of it, a few final i love you's were all you could physically say before you were fast asleep, sprawled out on top of him as he lay with his eyes nearly closed, tucking your hair away before placing a gentle kiss to your damp forehead.
you knew you could always count on your gyu to satisfy your horniness; on top of all the other ways in which he satisfied you. you were smiling in your sleep as the sun bathed you, his eyes soon fluttering shut.
let's hope you can walk tomorrow... was all he whispered into the damp air with a soft chuckle before falling asleep, chin resting on the crown of your head <3
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ ・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
a/n: if you made it this far, tysm for reading! i got this idea so late at night like... late-night gyu hours omg. nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed! :))
3K notes · View notes
aklaustaleteller · 4 months
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Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?
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Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?
Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3) Word Count - 4.0k
I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)
Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3
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Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.
He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.
His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.
From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.
But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.
So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.
The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.
He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.
She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.
Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.
"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.
Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.
"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.
"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.
This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.
So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.
His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.
And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.
He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.
He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.
Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead. 
Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.
He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.
And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.  
But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer. 
That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth. 
“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age. 
Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa. 
“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth. 
“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.
“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.
“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her. 
“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now. 
“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.
“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red. 
And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down. 
“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.
“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.
“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”
She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away. 
“Do you wish to go home?”
“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him. 
“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?” 
The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek. 
“What’s your name, darling?” 
“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time. 
“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons. 
And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her  a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father. 
Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality. 
So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house. 
“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her. 
“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.
Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.
It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart. 
“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door. 
“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled. 
Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”
Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places. 
Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further. 
Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.
“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s. 
Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.
“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth. 
Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.
Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper. 
Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.
And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working. 
Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.
After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity. 
When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two. 
Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs. 
Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.
But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement. 
And that’s exactly what had happened just now. 
“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.
He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside. 
“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone. 
“Does that mean it’s reading time?” 
“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah. 
He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than. 
“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him. 
Surely, he must have come with a death wish. 
“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man. 
Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.
“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on. 
“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that. 
“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.
Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure. 
“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”
“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered. 
Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest. 
“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.
And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is. 
Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah. 
“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face. 
“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes. 
“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering. 
“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”
“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now. 
1K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼
I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)
I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."
late night talking.
op x fem norris!reader
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in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…
hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍
songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit
4.1k words
sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.
that’s what you do, oscar and you.
you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.
you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.
rinse, repeat.
you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.
lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.
and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.
-
“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.
he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.
it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.
“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.
“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.
you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.
“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.
“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.
oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.
“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.
“more careful?”
you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.
“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.
“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”
“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.
you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.
-
“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.
“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.
he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.
“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.
“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.
“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.
you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.
“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”
“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.
a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.
it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.
-
somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago
“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.
“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.
“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.
“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.
you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.
“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.
“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.
“agreed.” he breathes.
“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.
“always.”
-
always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.
you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.
you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.
“lando, are you okay?”
will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.
your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.
that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.
and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.
but you stand there alone.
just like always.
-
somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago
“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.
you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.
the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.
“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.
he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.
“brown?” he questions teasingly.
“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.
“why?”
“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.
“you flirting with me?”
“you bet i am.”
you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.
-
the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.
he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.
“you just stood there.” you croak.
“love, i-“
“don’t call me that. please.”
hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.
“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.
you nod feebly.
“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”
“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.
“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“
“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.
“i can fix this, i will.”
“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.
“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.
“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”
“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately
“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.
you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.
“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”
“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.
“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”
“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.
oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.
“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.
the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.
“i love you, osc.” you whisper.
he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.
“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.
“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.
he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.
“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.
“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.
he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.
“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.
“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.
“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.
your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.
“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.
you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.
“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.
“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.
it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.
“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.
oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.
“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.
-
“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”
you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.
“what?”
“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.
“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.
“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.
“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“
“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.
“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.
“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”
-
“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.
“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.
you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.
“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”
“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.
“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.
“promise, i promise, i love you.”
you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.
“i know.”
“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.
“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.
he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.
“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.
“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.
“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.
his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.
“there’s something we gotta do.”
-
you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.
still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.
ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.
“oscar, what-“
“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.
oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.
your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.
“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.
“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.
lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.
but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.
“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.
“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.
“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.
“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.
“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.
“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.
“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.
all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.
“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”
jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.
“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.
“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.
“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.
“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.
you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.
-
you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.
you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.
when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.
you and oscar, you’re built to last.
-
“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.
it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.
the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.
“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.
“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.
“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.
yeah. duh. come on, man.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.
lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.
you’re gonna be okay.
-
hehe
-
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huicitawrites · 1 year
Text
Patiently Craving 
Yandere! Sukuna x Reader 
warnings: major jjk spoilers (non/manga readers, or manga readers not up to date), assault, yandere behaviour
word count: 4k
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It has been a long, arduous, night of study- you and Yuuji stayed up past twelve to finish a history group work. Jujutsu history homework was no easy task, for there were various curses, clans, battles, cursed techniques, and objects to recall. Still, the two of you managed to push through with the blessed help of some energy drinks and snacks. 
Yuuji sighed as he carried over a blanket to your form that was passed out on the couch. The pink-haired boy felt a little bit guilty; he should be the one sleeping on the couch. It was common courtesy that he should lend you his bed if you were staying over at his dorm. 
But you insisted, and ever so persistent, Yuuji could not get past you. So now here he was, gently placing down a blanket over your form to keep you warm. 
The blanket was slowly descending when it happened again. 
For just a second, an extremely dangerous second, Yuuji’s body shook. His face contorted uncontrollably, his eyebrows trembled, and a wicked grin plastered itself. Out of his own bodily command, Yuuji’s eyes widened and the hidden eyelids in his cheekbones popped open. 
The monster threatened to come out. 
But then, Itadori Yuuji’s contained him, again. 
Yuuji’s hand had tossed the blanket. He bent over to pick it up. His lips were tight against each other and he flared his nostrils to get a good breath of air. He opened his mouth wide and as he exhaled, he tried to let his body loose and ignore the stiffness of his muscles. He settled the blanket on you, and this time, he was hesitant to touch your body or get any closer. 
His face showed despair and signs of concern, and his heartbeat fast and climbed in his throat. 
He was afraid, but he better not show, not let the monster know. Yet Yuuji knew of such to be naive, for the curse is one with his body, a parasite- and Yuuji is his vessel. 
“Don’t be a fool.” A voice, deep, rumbly, and cunning spoke. Its words laced with the venom of mockery as a soft, condensing, chuckle vibrated after. 
A voice, a tone, Yuuji was familiar with. The one he despised the most, Sukuna Ryomen. 
He glares down with his four eyes from the comfort of his skull-throne, a tall phantom tori-gate framing his body and painting him in a royal manner- The King of Curses, of course. 
Itadori clicked his tongue and blew air against his lips his eyebrows, furrowed, and with much annoyance he faced his enemy forth. 
“What do you want, Sukuna?” 
He is not scared to say his name, if anything, he is tired of saying it. He spits it out without any hint of respect, the King's antics have grown old and bothersome on him. Sukuna’s grin twists into a cheshire smile and he scrutinizes Yuuji with his hellish crimson irises. 
“You know well what I want,” His head cocks to the side and lands on his clawed palm, the other set of fingers tapping rhythmically on the throne’s armrest. 
Usually, Yuuji tries to keep his cool. The pink-haired boy is aware of the manipulative tactics and shenanigans of the curse, so he knows better than to give in and be played by his words to physically maintain him at bay. 
Albeit, this is not the case, not when it is about the life of a friend. More so when it is about his unexpected and inexplicable obsession, he has with you. Yuuji does not know how or why, but you have caught the eye of Sukuna. 
“Fuck you,” Yuuji spat at him, and Sukuna simply laughed, “I will never let you, ever.” Yuuji looked up at him to challenge him, meeting his piercing stare with one of his own dark eyes. 
Sukuna’s cheeks puffed, only to explode into wild laughter. Yuuji simply stand still, tall, and straight- unfazed. He must not lose his cool, not let him grasp the reigns. 
He must not take over, not with you here so close and vulnerable. 
Surely, people have priorly done this- the feat of impressing the King. Gojo, who is the strongest and Sukuna's biggest threat, and Megumi for some reason Yuuji has not yet deciphered. In any case, it is their power and potential that beckons Sukuna, and which made them appear worthy, he guessed.  
With you- it is completely different. You are not a particularly strong sorcerer; you are at the same level as him and Kugisaki. You also lack any inherited technique. heavenly pact or extraordinary mumbo-jumbo from the jujutsu world. 
And yet- you caught his interest. Somehow, your presence grew on Sukuna. At first Yuuji did not notice, for it was subtle. Like a little gut-feeling whenever he was around you, like he could suddenly feel Sukuna paying attention and listening with keen ears, 
After a while, it became more obvious, but not obvious enough. If Yuuji happened to walk away from you, be it because he was heading somewhere else or something, his body protested. His legs became a bit heavier, and his torso and shoulders tried slightly to twist in your direction. Even further- Sukuna's mouth began to pop out randomly but in your presence. Sometimes, the curse would tease you or mock you, or smile wickedly at you- all which made Yuuji apologize profusely. 
The last, most prominent, bright red flag which slapped Yuuji into the implications of Sukuna's undivided attention occurred in a mission two months ago. The four of you had been sent to exterminate a couple of small grade curses, and unfortunately the lot of you miscalculated the situation. A special-grade curse, a cursed womb to be precise, rose within the shadows and overwhelmed the team. Yuuji was out of breath, Kugisaki had only a few nails left and Fushiguro had already spent more than half his arsenal, and you were far from them, snatched by the throat by the curse. You were passing out on its claws as you thrashed through your last breath. Yuuji recalls vividly how your writhing form made the curse inside of him snap.  
Itadori was surprised to find himself detached from his body as he watched from a spectator's standpoint. His body launched at top velocity and obliterated the curse with one swipe of his hand. Merciless, unbound, and wild- yet delicate when he held you. This had never happened before, Sukuna would never help someone else, Yuuji was testimony to that when Sukuna laughed cruelly alongside Mahito at Junpei's tragic predicament. 
But there you were, unharmed on his arms, passed out, and Yuuji swore he even felt Sukuna clutch you tighter. Heck, his clawed hand carefully caressed your face and nudged aside the hair strands. Oh, this was fucked up, he realized. So, he did what was entrusted to him, and regained control of his body. Kugisaki and Megumi observed with widened eyes and slacked jaws. The silence between the three of them was loud and spoke volumes. That day the three of them expressed their concerns to their teacher and decided to hide this incident from you- in their version of the tale, Yuuji saved you, which was half-the-truth in the least. 
After the incident that almost cost you your life, Sukuna got worse. He was unbearable and unashamed, the curse attempted to take over his body numerous times. Anytime, anywhere. In Jujutsu High, during missions, in the streets even. It was tiresome, but Yuuji would not budge. He even tried to distance himself from you, but your friendly self was too naive to notice.  
Each day, Yuuji fights to keep his body to himself and protect you, and Sukuna fights to break free and do whatever he wants with you, which terrified Yuuji. 
Yuuji didn't realize how close Sukuna got to him whilst he was lost in thought and memory, but realization had been too late by the time the Cursed King delivered a blow right to his gut. The two-eyed salmon haired coughed in pain and fell to the ground, and his counterpart used this opportunity window to press the sole of his foot on his face, harshly. Yuuji's skull resisted, and the palm of his hands went to both sides of his chest, but he couldn't pick himself a centimeter up. His face was flushed and rubbed onto the mysterious watery floor, and Sukuna chuckled devilishly. 
"Just what exactly do you plan to do to stop me? You cannot even pick yourself up, idiotic brat" The force pushing him into the floor got stronger, the foot twisted deeper into his cheek. Yuuji opened his mouth in any way he mustered, but before any words came out of his mouth, Sukuna fully stomped his feet and Yuuji sank into the water. 
He woke up on the tatami of his dorm in cold sweat and rushing heartbeat, a dry throat to top it all. '(Y/n)!', Yuuji snapped his head to glance at the coach. He stood up desperately, his legs stumbling, and he fell on the coach's armrest. His own eyes scanned your sleeping form; indeed, you were resting peacefully.  
Itadori Yuuji's body collapsed on itself slowly. He fell on his rear, and then tired on his back. He faced the plain ceiling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Once he gathered himself, Yuuji glanced out the window and distinguished the light and smooth colors of dawn.  
Fuck, it was late. 
Naturally, he sought out the clock hanging on his dorm wall and his hand came to his forehead, where it damped. He brought it up his hair before it slid down to cover his eyes, and a series of swear words and curses left his mouth in a hush manner. 
Time, he was running out of time. 
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“Fushigoro?” 
Itadori Yuuji asked with a cracked voice. As an answer, he only received the distorted laughs of his friend, Megumi Fushigoro - no, of the curse possessing his friend, Ryomen Sukuna. 
‘Fuck, fuck! How could this be?!’ 
Both you and Yuuji stood frozen in place, shocked. The tables had turned drastically, never had you entertained the thought of Sukuna switching into another vessel, least of all Megumi. 
You took a quick glance at Yuuji. He looked heartbroken. Sukuna looked delighted, joyous, ecstatic. He ran his hands on his new hair, feeling the black locks of Fushigoro Megumi. 
“Stupid brat, you didn’t really think through our Binding Vow,” he blurted in between laughs, his voice alien to his body as the red eyes filled with mockery and disdain. 
“Die.” 
You saw Megumi, no, Sukuna, incoming, and you picked up your stance, you looked sideways to Yuuji, and - 
“Yuuji!!! Dodge!!!” You cried out for your friend, your arm desperately reaching for him, your body ready to sabotage its survival instincts to push him out of the way. 
But you were too slow, and he did not move a muscle. He just stood there and took the powerful blow. 
Eyes widened; you saw him spit out blood. With a single blow to the gut, Sukuna blasted Yuuji away, and his body crashed through several buildings, far from your sight.  
It is about damn, fucking time. That Itadori brat has had his use, and at this point, he was becoming more of a prison than a vessel. Although dumb, weak, and naive, that brat did only one thing right. 
He could restrain him. 
Every.single.fucking.time. 
Sukuna had tried more than a couple of times to catch you off guard. When you turned around, when you were too focused to notice your surroundings, when you stayed over to sleep at the brat's, when you were too weak and exhausted to fight, or simply anytime Ryomen Sukuna desired. 
And each single fucking time, the damn brat stopped him. 
But now, now that was a thing of the past. A nuisance he no longer had to deal with. Not as he had the body of Megumi Fushigoro under his control, and with a single punch to the gut, that weakling was done with. 
Sukuna laughed, his eyes wide and mad, his pupils dilated, and his toothy grin wicked. 
About. Damn. Fucking. Time. 
Horror painted a canvas on your face, and despair formed a pit in your chest, but despite it all, you managed to cast a spell. Even with a tight lump inside your throat, you brought your hands together in a seal - your last two fingers crossed each other and the first three touched each other. 
“Caladrius!” You conjured a white owl Shinigami big enough to carry you. You grasped its feathers to propel yourself upwards and climb it, but a tough arm grabbed you by the ankle. 
“Oh, no, you won’t.” 
He pulled you down, and you failed to resist his strength, but you were quick to command the owl to set off on its own. It was more important that it reached Yuuji, for his sake, yours, and Megumi’s - if he was still there, he had to be there, deep down. 
With the usurped body of your friend, his black hair thrown back out of his usual hairstyle and sinister signature tattoos invading his skin, the ‘borrowed’ arms went around your waist, and his sharp claws slightly tore the layers of your clothes, prodding at the skin below. 
“Do you like my new host, [Y/n]? I sure do; it feels refreshing,” The usurper said nonchalantly in your ear as you struggled against his frame. He chuckled at your struggle, finding it cutely futile if anything. 
Sukuna lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. He was slow, painfully so, taking his sweet time in tormenting you. 
"So sweet," he whispered in your ear, but blood did not rush to your face nor taint the tips of your ears. No. That intimidating aura, that immeasurable amount of cursed energy so close to you. 
You froze. 
You could die here and now. 
Only when you felt a slim sensation up your neck, dangerously close to your jugular, did you wince. Snapping out of your shocked state, you began to thrash in his hold. 
Sukuna merely chuckled; you could feel his chest and abdomen rising and falling against your back. He laughed and laughed, baring his teeth and fangs, his four eyes brimming with joy. He dragged his maniacal display until it ended with a satisfactory sigh. His expression fell, his grin fell flat, and his eyes narrowed. 
“You don’t have any idea how much I wanted out from that Itadori brat." the King of Curses sighed. 
His arms began to snake around your waist, and his clawed hands grasped your skin. His sharp nails dragged tightly against your skin, leaving a thin reddish trail behind, but you were too focused on his words. “All this time I have been looking at you, woman, my woman. My future queen.” Such a passionate confession would leave anyone stuttering with a mad blush, but this was Ryomen Sukuna, the enemy of all enemies, the worst of curses, a threat to any living being - he couldn’t be serious, this just could not be real. 
This was madness. 
“You made friends with two weak and idiotic boys, did you know? But I must admit, at least that damn Itadori brat did quite the job in restraining me.” His nails began to feel tighter on your skin and were threatening to tear into you at any moment. 
“All this time, I’ve been craving you.” He parted his lips and brought out his tongue, lapping it all the way up your neck. Sukuna relished it - he could taste your fear, and he loved it. 
It was addicting. 
He continued, “Now, now [Y/N]. If I had to tell you something with all my years of experience, is that I do not like being bothered” The King of Curses could sense people coming, and while he normally enjoyed torturing and murdering his enemies, just for this time he would rather be left alone, with you. 
Utilizing the body of the Fushigoro boy, he moved his grasp from your waist and brought them together in a seal, in front of your abdomen - of course, silly, he would not let you go. 
"Nue," his deep voice vibrated against your ear, and a wave of cursed energy flooded the area. You shot up your head, and your jaw dropped. Megumi's bird Shinigami had turned into a colossal predator, at least four times its usual size, and it even developed a tail. With the flap of its wings, thunder and lightning surged, attacking the neighboring area around you and Sukuna. 
The sight of the beast made you snap out of your haste. You had to do something. Although you were powerless against this demon, Megumi was still there. He was being held prisoner in his own body, but he could break free. If you could just reach out to him, "Megumi! I know you are there! You can snap out of it, just like Yuuji! C'mon Megumi!" 
Naively, your eyes sought for eye-contact. Only to see the four red irises of Sukuna, his tattoos shifting along with the grin on his face. 
"Megumi? Really? He may be able to hear you, [Y/N], but I assure you, he's not coming back," Sukuna purred, his grip on you tightening. "Don’t make me jealous now, calling out another man’s name... I’d rather you call out mine." 
Desperation and fear surged through your veins, but you refused to give in to Sukuna's taunts. Summoning every ounce of courage, you had left, you clenched your fists and glared defiantly at him. 
"You're wrong! Megumi is strong, and he won't let you control him forever. I believe in him, and we will find a way to break your hold on him!" You retorted, determination shining in your [e/c] eyes. 
Sukuna's laughter filled the air, echoing around you like sinister bells of doom. "Oh, how amusing! Your faith in him is laughable. But I'll humor you, my dear [Y/N]. Let's see how long you can hold on to that hope before I make you mine entirely." 
As Sukuna's laughter subsided, you felt a surge of raw energy emanating from him. The air crackled with malevolence as Sukuna prepared to unleash his Nue’s full power. But before he could strike, an unexpected presence intervened. 
A figure emerged from the shadows, radiating a powerful aura that seemed to challenge even Sukuna's might. Itadori Yuuji, battered, bruised and with several cuts from the earlier blow, stood tall with a determined glint in his eyes. 
"Leave [Y/N] alone, Sukuna! This is between you and me," Yuuji declared, his voice steady despite the pain. 
Sukuna's lips curled into a sinister grin. "You still think you can stand up to me, boy? I'll enjoy tearing you apart, scum." 
Yuuji's resolve only strengthened. He clenched his fists and channeled every ounce of cursed energy he possessed. "I won't let you hurt [Y/N], and I won't let you get away with what you've done." 
Using another set of Megumi’s shikigamis, Sukuna conjured the monster serpent (now, a full, intimidating horned cobra) and it curled tight around you- rendering you immobile as it drained you of your cursed energy.
The battlefield crackled with tension as Sukuna and Yuuji faced each other, locked in an inevitable clash. Meanwhile, you struggled against the shikigami’s tailed hold, trying to summon every ounce of cursed energy within you to break free. The ground trembled beneath your feet as the battle commenced. 
It soon became clear that Yuuji was no match for Sukuna's overwhelming power. Despite his valiant efforts, Sukuna's strength and cunning proved to be too much to handle. With a single devastating attack, Yuuji was defeated, lying unconscious on the ground. 
“Yuuji!!!” You screamed and tears welled up in your eyes. 
Sukuna stood triumphantly over Yuuji's fallen form, a sinister grin stretching across his face. "Pathetic brat," he sneered, "You were never worthy of her attention. But now, she's all mine." 
Your heart pounded in your chest as you faced the monstrous curse before you. Sukuna's eyes bore into yours with an unsettling mix of possessiveness and desire. He took a step closer, and you could feel his cursed energy suffocating you. 
You clenched your fists, trying to muster the courage to stand up to him. "I'll never be yours, Sukuna," you retorted, your voice wavering and cracking but determined.  
Sukuna's grin widened, reveling in your resistance. "Oh, how delightful. The more you resist, the more enticing you become," he said, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey. With a chask of his fingers, the shikigami which held you vanished, and you fell on Sukuna’s arms. One of his clawed and tattooed hands reached out to grasp you by the chin, forcing you into eye-contact and squeezing your cheeks- bringing your lips forward. 
Your heart raced with fear, and Sukuna's grin only grew wider. His face inched closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "My love," he whispered, his voice laced with a possessive edge. “I will not let you escape me. You are mine, [Y/N], and I will gladly be yours " he murmured, pulling you closer to him. Anticipating his actions, you focused your remaining strength in struggling against him. Regardless, Sukuna leaned in and succeeded in sealing his lips against yours.  
Ryomen Sukuna kissed you with a passion you would never expect, or experience- a profound hunger and impatience that had been finally sated. A tongue, thick, slimy, and intrusive that relentlessly claimed a pair of lips it had been craving for so long, a desire long fulfilled. 
His onslaught was merciless; he wanted more, but when he looked at your flushed face and shut eyes, and attention to your weakening fists against his chest, he chuckled against your lips and broke the kiss. You gasped for air and breathed frantically, as Sukuna admired the trail of saliva that bridged his lips to yours. 
"You are mine, [Y/N], and there's no escape. I have been waiting for so long; I have been so patient. I think it’s time I deserved my reward." 
His lips peppered and trailed up your neck, climbing across your jaw, past your lips and near your ear. He whispered, hungrily and husky “I’m just so hungry for you.” 
A/n: I’ve literally been trying to write this a LONG time ago, and finally broke through! I hope you like a normal dickhead sukuna that is a hard simp for darling. One more sukuna fic that I’ve been saving to go!
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charmercharm3r · 1 year
Text
Dream You
BC
Masterlist
wc: 4k
Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other
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☆゚
4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!
You. Needed. Affection.
Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.
So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.
When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.
“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.
Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.
Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”
He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.
“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.
“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?
You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”
Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”
It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.
You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.
So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.
Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.
You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.
It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.
Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.
No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.
His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.
Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.
“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.
This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.
“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.
“Hm?” You hummed.
He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”
Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”
He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.
“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.
A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.
It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.
It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.
“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.
“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”
You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.
“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”
Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.
He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.
Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”
You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”
Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.
Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.
But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.
“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”
Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.
Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”
You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.
Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.
“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I’ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”
You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.
Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.
Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.
You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.
He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”
Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”
Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.
There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.
And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.
Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.
It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.
Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.
God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.
And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.
God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.
Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.
As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.
“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.
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tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut
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pickingupmymercedes · 19 days
Text
Ways they show they love each other pt.1 - Lewis Hamilton
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5 snippets of fluff - part 2 here
Also there's a bunch more just like these ones if you like them - Ways to say I love you p1 / p2 ; All these little things - p1 / p2 ; Small firsts
request : "i was thinking after reading the one shot you did about fans favorite moments and 5+5, and i got an ideia of a compilation of moments caught on cameras of Lewis and Y/n basically forgetting there’s people around" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +4k
a/n: Hi anon, your request made me realize how I was relying heavily on dialogues, so it took me a bit to get these done, but I hope you like it as much as I loved writing them❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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A stolen glance
The behind-the-scenes of any photoshoot was always a controlled chaos—a blend of soft chatter, click of cameras, the occasional bark of direction.
Bright lights bathed the studio in a cool, almost clinical glow, every corner meticulously curated for perfection. Lewis was the center of it all, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone present.
And even in the midst of the frenetic energy, he had his calm, collected demeanor that made the whole affair seem easy.
He was, after all, no stranger to the spotlight.
Y/n stood off to the side, nestled in a corner of the studio where she could work without drawing attention. Her laptop perched on a small table, open to a report she had been poring over since they arrived.
She knew her place there—quiet, supportive, and out of the way. And the last thing she wanted was to be a distraction.
But as the photoshoot progressed, she found herself stealing more and more glances at Lewis, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had, specially on her.
He was dressed to a tee, as always, the tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly.
The photographer would call for a slight adjustment, and Lewis would respond with a slight tilt of his head or a shift in his posture, a model of effortless grace.
But it wasn’t just the way he looked that held Y/n’s attention; it was the way he carried himself, the way he seemed so completely in his element.
Lewis, ever attuned to the energy in the room, could feel her eyes on him even when he wasn’t looking. After all, it was a sensation he had come to know well—the warmth of her gaze, the quiet intensity of her presence.
He let a small smile play on his lips as he adjusted his cufflinks, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. He didn’t need to look directly at her to confirm his suspicious.
But then, it happened.
The photographer called for a brief pause to adjust the lighting, and Lewis took the opportunity to glance over in Y/n’s direction.
She was no longer pretending to work, her focus entirely on him now. Their eyes met across the room and the rest of the studio seemed to fall away.
They didn’t need words to communicate; everything was said in that single, stolen glance.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like nothing more than a casual exchange of looks, but for those who paid close attention, there was a depth to the way they looked at each other, a silent conversation happening beneath the surface.
Her eyes softened as they met his, a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding passing between them. His smile widened just a fraction, a quiet acknowledgment of her support.
The moment was fleeting—just a few seconds, really—but it was enough.
Enough for the photographer’s assistant, who had been adjusting a reflector nearby, to notice the subtle exchange. She glanced between Lewis and Y/n, a curious smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
As the photoshoot resumed, Y/n kept stealing glances at Lewis, and each time, she found him looking back. It was a dance they played often, the stolen glances—a way of staying connected even when they were surrounded by people.
Another crew member, tasked with holding up the boom mic, caught on as well. He nudged his colleague, nodding subtly in their direction. “You see that?” he whispered, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
His colleague followed his gaze, catching one of those silent exchanges. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice low with amusement. “They’re not exactly hiding it, are they?”
The shoot continued, but for those who were paying attention, the focus shifted slightly. It was no longer just about capturing the perfect shot of Lewis Hamilton; they were capturing the stolen glances, the unspoken words—a part of the narrative, an unexpected layer to the day’s work.
And when the shoot finally wrapped, Lewis walked over to Y/n. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached out to take her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him, her expression soft, a silent question in her eyes.
“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low, meant only for her.
She replied with a nod, the smile on her lips answering more than just his question.
As they walked out of the studio hand in hand, the photographer couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he should have captured those stolen glances on camera.
Because sometimes, the most beautiful moments aren’t the ones that are posed or staged—they’re the ones that happen when you think no one else is watching.
Except someone always is.
A playful nudge
The video started with a shaky view of the Malibu coastline, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance, and the rhythmic hum of cars passing by.
The camera panned over the scenic beach for a moment before a voice behind the camera blurted out “Oh my God, is that Lewis Hamilton?”
The camera zoomed in, focusing on a couple standing just before the crosswalk, both decked out in running gear.
Sure enough, it’s Lewis, slightly out of breath, hands resting on his hips as he waits for the signal to cross. Next to him, Y/n standing with a relaxed smile, glancing up and down the road.
“Are they out for a run smack in the middle of Malibu?” another voice chimed in from off-camera, clearly excited by the sighting.
The camera adjusted, capturing the full view of Lewis and Y/n as they stand side by side, the breeze lightly tousling Y/n’s hair.
She had her phone in hand, taking a quick peek at the screen before tucking it back into her shorts. The shot lingering on them for a few seconds, the fan behind the camera trying to stay as quiet as possible.
Y/n nudged Lewis gently with her shoulder, just enough to make him stumble a step to the side. The camera zoomed in at just the right time, catching Lewis’s amused reaction. He laughed, the sound carried by the breeze, and shakes his head, clearly enjoying the playful jab.
The fan behind the camera giggled softly and it was clear when a voice whispered “Did you see that?”
Lewis, grinning, turned toward Y/n, his expression full of that familiar warmth fans would seldom catch a glimpse of.
He nudged her back lightly, more of a gentle tap, like he doesn’t want to push too hard. The camera catching the playful spark in both of their eyes, the kind of silent exchange that speaks volumes.
The fan continued filming, capturing how Y/n laughs at his halfhearted nudge, rolling her eyes as if to say, Is that all you’ve got? She gave him a mock glare, but it’s softened by the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
There’s an ease between them, the kind that makes anyone watching feel like they’re intruding into something private, something special.
With the light finally turning green Lewis gestured toward the crosswalk, but Y/n made no move to start jogging again. Instead, she just stood there for a second, shaking her head with that mischievous look still on her face.
Lewis nudged her again, this time even lighter, before giving her a mock-serious look like he’s trying to get them back on track.
Y/n giggled, finally taking a step forward as they begin to cross the road, but not before throwing a playful glance over her shoulder at Lewis.
The camera zoomed in on the way he followed her with an amused smile, clearly enjoying the moment.
As they make their way across, Y/n’s pace picked up, and Lewis kept right alongside her, their matching strides making them effortlessly in sync.
The fan behind the camera sighed “Look at them. Relationship goals, for real.”
The video lingered for a few more seconds as Lewis and Y/n continued their run, their figures growing smaller against the backdrop of the coast.
Just before they disappear from view though, Lewis reached out, placing a hand on Y/n’s back for a split second as if to push her on, the two of them laughing as they ran off down the road.
The video cut out with the fan’s last words: “I swear, I don’t want it if it’s not like that.”
A stolen kiss
The celebration was electric, the kind of moment that would be burned into everyone’s memory for years to come.
Ferrari had finally done it. Lewis crossed the finish line in first place, the prancing horse charging ahead of the pack in what felt like destiny fulfilled.
The garage exploded into cheers, the pit wall erupted in a frenzy, and the grandstands painted a sea of red echoed the voices carried on the wind.
It wasn’t just another victory though. It was his first win with Ferrari—a culmination of months of hard work, adjustment, and even doubts.
The weight of expectation had been heavy, but now, standing in the aftermath of triumph, he felt lighter than air.
The team swarmed around him as he finally made his way back into the garage, hands clapping his back, smiles wide and infectious.
The sea of red uniforms buzzing with joy as they prepared for the post-race photo—Ferrari’s tradition to mark the moment with everyone who had a hand in their success.
Y/n was already there, waiting on the outskirts of the group, smiling at him with a look that carried every ounce of her pride.
He caught her eye, and for a second, the noise and chaos dimmed, leaving just the two of them locked in a gaze that said everything without needing to speak. She was beaming, a mixture of joy and awe in her eyes, and he knew that this win was as much hers as it was his.
As the photographers tried to position the team into position, Lewis found his way toward Y/n, weaving through the jubilant engineers, mechanics, and team staff, until he was beside her.
She was grinning, arms already outstretched as he pulled her into a tight hug, both of them laughing breathlessly in the whirlwind of it all.
“Your first win here” she whispered in his ear; her voice barely audible over the din of celebration. “You did it.”
“We did it” he corrected, voice low, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
Before either of them could say anything more, a team member called out for Lewis to join the front of the photo, waving him over to stand with the trophy.
He gave Y/n a quick look, something cheeky and playful dancing in his eyes. She smile in response.
“Go on” she nudged him, gesturing toward the growing mass of Ferrari crew.
But as Lewis moved toward the group, he didn’t go far.
Instead, in one swift, practiced motion, he spun around, grabbed Y/n by the wrist, and tugged her toward him. It was quick, almost too fast to catch amid the chaos, but then—there it was.
A stolen kiss.
His lips met hers in a flash of spontaneity, right in the middle of the noise and celebration, brief yet brimming with passion.
The kind of kiss that left a spark even in its brevity, enough to draw a few cheers and whistles from the surrounding team, though most were too busy being caught up in the victory to fully take notice.
Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second before she melted into it, a soft laugh escaping against his lips as her hand came up to the back of his neck. Lewis grinned against her mouth, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable even in such a fleeting moment.
As quickly as it had happened, it was over. Lewis pulled away, his trademark smirk firmly in place as Y/n stood there, flushed and breathless, trying to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her throat.
“Get in there!” someone from the team shouted shaking their head with amusement at the exchange - clearly a jab at his former team.
Lewis winked at Y/n before finally joining his team, stepping into the heart of the crowd where the Ferrari flag waved high, and the race trophy gleamed in the sunlight. He held it up, his teammates cheering louder than ever, the cameras snapping relentlessly to capture the moment in all its glory.
The celebration photo would show the entire team draped in victory, smiles wide and arms slung around each other. But if you looked close enough, tucked away in the background, you’d see it—Lewis with that telltale grin, Y/n just behind him, the traces of their stolen kiss still lingering in the soft curve of her smile.
It was a tiny moment in the grand scheme of things, almost imperceptible amid the fanfare and noise.
But for those who knew what to look for, it was impossible to miss.
Because even in the chaos of celebration, even in a moment as public as this, their love found a way to slip through the cracks—brief, stolen, but undeniable.
And that was the beauty of it.
A tender moment
The pit lane was quieter now, a contrast to the earlier chaos of the day.
Most of the crew had packed up, the cars were tucked away in the garage, and the hum of the engines had long since faded into memory. The track waiting the next day’s action, and only a few lingering souls wandered about, soaking in the calm before the storm.
Among those few, a fan stood by the barrier, camera slung around her neck, taking in the rare stillness of the circuit. She hadn’t expected to see anything interesting at this hour, not with the hustle and bustle already behind them.
But as her eyes drifted across the pit lane, she caught sight of something—a scene so simple that it stopped her in her tracks.
There, just outside the Mercedes garage, stood Lewis and Y/n. They weren’t hurried, weren’t caught up in the business of racing. No, this was different.
They were wrapped in their own little world, their bodies turned toward each other as if nothing else mattered.
Lewis had his hands loosely around Y/n’s waist, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against her sides, grounding her in their quiet corner of the pit lane. His head was tilted slightly, eyes focused entirely on her as she spoke softly to him, her words just for his ears.
There was a warmth in his expression, something tender and utterly unguarded.
He wasn’t the man under pressure, expected to perform at the highest-level day in and day out. Right now, he was simply Lewis, listening with all the care in the world to the woman he loved.
Y/n’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke to him. She was leaning in just a bit, her hands resting lightly on his chest, and from a distance, it almost looked like they were swaying slightly, as if caught in their own rhythm.
Whatever she was saying though didn’t seem urgent—it was the kind of conversation that unfolded naturally, without need for resolution.
The fan watched, unnoticed, her breath catching slightly as she witnessed the way they moved together, as if the rest of the world had faded away and left only them standing in the soft glow of the overhead lights.
There was something so private about it, and yet so visible in its simplicity—an everyday moment captured in the stillness of a place built on speed and intensity.
And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Lewis leaned in. His lips brushed her temple, soft and unhurried, lingering there for just a second longer than a simple kiss.
It wasn’t meant for anyone else but her, a quiet reassurance, a silent promise. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her body relaxing into him as his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her gently into a hug.
Her hands rested against his chest, and he bent slightly to accommodate her, his mouth grazing the top of her head as he left another kiss.
Lewis shifted slightly, tightening his hold on Y/n for just a second before loosening his grip, but not letting her go.
He said something then, his voice too low to carry, but whatever it was made her laugh softly, the sound like a ripple in the still night air. She tilted her head up to look at him, and the fan could see the way her eyes lit up in response to whatever Lewis had said.
Here, late at night on the pit lane, far from the roar of engines and the scrutiny of crowds, Lewis wasn’t the global superstar. He was just a man in love, holding onto the person who made everything else fall into place.
It wasn’t the flash and dazzle of a public relationship; it was something quieter, more personal. And yet, in its tenderness, it said so much more.
The fan’s camera captured it all. And in less than an hour everyone had witnessed their moment.
A moment that was meant to be quiet, meant to be just for them, but one that also showed so much to everyone lucky enough to watch the video.
A moment that proved love wasn’t always about grand gestures or declarations.
 Sometimes, it was as simple as a kiss on the temple and the way two people held each other in the stillness of the night, saying everything that needed to be said without a single word.
A playful tease
The fan video started with shaky footage as the camera panned across the crowded Vegas club, neon lights flashing to the beat of the music.
People were dancing, laughing, completely wrapped up in the energy of the night, but then the lens focused, and the camera zoomed in, capturing a familiar face standing at the edge of the VIP section.
It’s Lewis Hamilton, casually leaning against the rail, drink in hand.
He’s cool, relaxed, but there’s something else that catches the attention of the person filming. The camera shifting slightly to the right, catching a glimpse of Y/n moving through the crowd, dancing.
She’s not facing Lewis at first, but there’s no doubt she’s teasing him. The way she swayed, her body moving to the rhythm, full of that playful energy.
The camera zoomed in further, capturing the way Lewis watched her, a small smile playing on his lips. He stood there, arms crossed, amused, but anyone watching the video can tell he’s completely tuned in to her.
A few seconds into the video, Y/n spined closer, twirling just out of his reach before laughing and disappearing into the crowd again.
The fan holding the phone shifted slightly, following her movements as best they could while keeping Lewis in the shot. A few muffled voices could be heard in the background, someone saying, “That’s Hamilton, right?” and another voice chiming in, “Yeah, and that’s his girlfriend!”
Y/n circled back into view, closer to Lewis this time, brushing past him with a light touch, just enough to make him chuckle. The fan holding the camera catching the moment perfectly.
His smirk turning into a quiet laugh as he leaned down slightly, calling something out to her over the music. The camera didn’t pick up what he said, but the spark in Y/n’s eyes is clear when she looked back at him.
The person filming giggled quietly, clearly amused by the interaction, and the video cut to a new angle as the fan moved closer.
Y/n could be seen fully then, standing just in front of Lewis, dancing to the beat, a wide grin on her face. She didn’t say anything, just kept on teasing him with her moves.
Every now and then, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure he was watching – and of course, he was.
One of the fans nearby cheered her on, and the camera shook a little as the person holding it laughed, saying, “He’s down bad.”
The footage zoomed in again, focusing on the way Lewis watched Y/n with a look that was both amused and completely smitten.
Another cheer came from someone in the crowd as Y/n finally moved back toward Lewis, this time leaning her back against his chest for a second.
The scene caught perfectly—the way he smiled down at her, his hand brushing against her waist before she moved away again, still dancing.
The video blurred for a second as the fan tries to get a better shot, but when it cleared, it captures the way Y/n leaned in, her lips moving as she says something into Lewis’s ear.
The music is too loud for the camera to pick up her words, but Lewis’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with that playful light that only she could bring out of him.
“I’m so single, look at them.” someone off-camera said, and the video shook again, this time zooming out slightly to catch the whole scene—the lights, the crowd, the two of them standing in the middle of it all, lost in their own world.
At the end, Y/n spined one last time, landing in front of Lewis with a dramatic little twirl.
She laughed, throwing her arms up in the air, and Lewis taking his chance, reached out before she could escape again. His arm closing around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
Y/n let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively going to his arms. He leans into her, whispering something into her ear that made her smile as she tilted her head back to look at him.
The camera zoomed in once more, catching the way his fingers tighten around her waist, holding her close. It was just them—wrapped up in their moment, amid the noise of the club.
Y/n turned in his arms, facing him fully, their smiles softer as she placed her hands on his chest. The music pounding on.
The video ends as Lewis pulled her in closer, their foreheads almost touching, his lips moving as she looked into his eyes and a smirk rising up in her own lips.
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ange1heavensent · 29 days
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Getting Caught in 4K
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
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Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
Content Warning: light makeout
w/c ≈ 750
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
The evening air was crisp, a gentle breeze sweeping through the streets as you pulled your car up to Ellie’s house. The date had gone even better than you’d imagined. Dinner, movie, and her constant smirk that made your heart flutter, it had all felt perfect. Ellie sat beside you in the passenger seat, glancing out of the window as if savoring the last few moments of your time together before stepping out.
"Thanks for tonight," Ellie said, breaking the silence but making no move to leave. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if she didn’t really want to say goodbye. “I had a really good time tonight.” you replied, your heart thudding a little faster in your chest. Ellie smiled, her lips curling up in that way that always made your heart skip. “Me too.”
Before you could say anything else, Ellie leaned over, her breath warm against your skin as she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. It was meant to be a simple gesture of thanks, but the second her lips touched your skin, something shifted in the air between you. You turned your head slightly, and suddenly, her lips were on yours, tentative at first, but then growing bolder when you kissed her back.
The kiss deepened, your hands finding their way to Ellie’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she leaned closer, her body pressing against yours. The space between the seats felt too small, too confining, as if it wasn’t enough to contain the intensity of the moment.
Ellie seemed to feel the same way. Without breaking the kiss, she shifted, trying to climb over the center console into your lap. The car was small, though, and Ellie’s movements were anything but graceful. Her knee knocked into the gearshift, and as she twisted her body to straddle you, her foot caught on the edge of the seat. In the scramble, her butt hit the car horn with a loud, blaring honk that shattered the quiet night.
You both froze, the kiss abruptly cut off as you stared at each other in shock, wide-eyed and breathless. Then, as if on cue, the front door of Ellie’s house swung open, and there stood Joel, silhouetted against the light from inside.
“Ellie,” Joel called out, his voice gruff but not exactly angry—more like he had caught her doing something she shouldn’t, which was… well, accurate.
Ellie quickly scrambled off you, mumbling out a curse, nearly falling back into the passenger seat as she tried to regain her composure, then rolling the passenger window down. "Uh, hey, Joel…" She wiped at her mouth, trying to look nonchalant, but the red creeping up her neck wasn’t helping her case. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, looking between you two before letting out a heavy sigh. "I was wonderin' why the car horn went off in the driveway. Didn't realize it was... this." His tone was stern, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that he was clearly trying to suppress.
You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, Mr. Miller…"
Joel just shook his head, stepping back towards the house. "You two finish up your… uh, whatever it is you're doin'. Just… maybe not in the driveway, yeah?" He gave Ellie a pointed look before disappearing back inside.
The moment he was out of sight, Ellie let out a deep breath, slumping back in the seat, and you both burst into laughter.
"Well, that could've been worse," Ellie snorted, wiping a hand over her face. She turned to you, her face still flushed, still not quite over the embarrassment. "So, what are the chances we can pretend that never happened?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Not a chance. I’m never letting you live this down."
Ellie rolled her eyes but leaned in to press one last soft kiss to your lips, this time careful not to trigger any more accidental honking. “Guess we’ll have to try this again sometime,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low and teasing, "but next time let’s make sure we’re in your room or something, okay?" “Yeah,” you agreed, your heart fluttering at the thought. “I’d like that.”
As she opened the door and stepped out of the car, Ellie threw you one last playful wink before jogging up the steps to the house, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a memory of the night you definitely wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)
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little-diable · 1 month
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Broke my heart and called me pretty, won me back and called me his - Tyler Owens (smut)
Watched Twisters again and I simply needed to write another Tyler fic. I listened to "Pretty Slowly" by Benson Boone while writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler had ended his engagement to the reader years ago, all for her to chase her dreams. But when he turns up as a guest for her lecture, both find themselves thrown back into the love they still feel for one another.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho
Pairing: Tyler Owens x professor!fem!reader (4k words)
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“(Y/n)?” Her eyes flickered up from her notes, watching her assistant take a step into her office. With a soft smile playing on her lips, (y/n) waited for Alice to keep on speaking, knowing that she must leave for her upcoming class in a few minutes. 
“There’s been a scheduling problem with your guest for today’s lesson, they sent somebody else. He’s waiting outside for you.” For a second, she only stared at Alice, letting the words sink in before her annoyance and anger could clash through her. Organising guests who were willing to speak to her students has always been a struggle, she spent hours on finding the right people and now she couldn’t help but curse them for not giving her an earlier notice.
“Send him in, thank you, Alice.” (Y/n) began to collect her notes as the elderly woman left the room to fetch whoever was waiting outside, buying herself some time to remain calm. Deep breaths left (y/n), fighting through the uneasiness she couldn’t shake. 
The sound of boots meeting the ground rang in her ears, and suddenly her body began to tense, freezing on the spot almost. Somehow she could feel him before she saw him, instantly knowing who was about to enter her office even though it had been years since they had last seen one another. 
“Would you look at that, I’ve always wondered what your office looks like.” His voice shot shudders down her spine, a reaction she had once been all too familiar with but couldn’t help but curse now. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, fuck he was still as handsome as he had been all those years before. 
“What are you doing here, Tyler?” Her voice didn’t carry much strength, just enough to draw his wandering eyes back to her. Tyler studied her for a moment, keeping his distance while both seemed to get lost in the draw they had felt ever since their first date, knowing that the other was the one - or at least it had always felt like that. 
“Jake gave me a call this morning, told me he couldn’t make it. And since we were in the area anyway, I didn’t mind stepping in.” A scoff clawed through (y/n), followed by the shake of her head. She kept her eyes focused on her things while she rose to her feet, set on getting this over and done with as fast as possible.
“Of course you didn’t mind, the holy saint Tyler Owens just can’t help but present himself at any given chance.” His hand shot out to catch her arm before she could brush past him, forcing (y/n) to stand close to him. 
“Hey, I’m doing you a favour here, least you could do is treat me with some respect.” His voice still had that southern drawl to it she had longed to hear for way too long. She had deleted all his socials, hadn’t talked to any of their shared friends, no matter how many times she had longed to do so - even thinking of him hurt still too much. 
“Respect? I’m amazed you even know what that word means.” Both looked at one another for a moment, caught up in the memories that still haunted them to this day. Perhaps it could have been different. Perhaps they could have still been together if their path hadn’t been forced to an end years ago. 
“I did what was right, you can paint me as the bad guy, but don’t lie to yourself, darling. I did it for you, and I would do it all over again.” She ripped herself out of his grasp and muttered a small “Follow me” before leaving the room. Tears threatened to build in her eyes, forced to remember the day he had broken up with her, weeks after he had asked her to marry him. Deep down she knew that he was speaking the truth, if he hadn’t broken up with her, she wouldn’t have followed her dreams to study overseas to end up where she was now. And yet she hadn’t been able to let go of her hurt to this day.
The sounds of their shoes meeting the cold ground was the only thing that could be heard, nothing but heavy steps that felt like they were moving towards their end once again. Ancient lovers reunited in their last hour on this earth, and with one last chance they were offered to find their way back together. A chance that was now slipping through their fingers. 
“Good afternoon.” Her voice boomed through the big room which was filled with students who all instantly stopped speaking. Tyler kept his distance, waiting near the door while studying her every move. This was what he had hoped for all these years ago. For her to end up right here, doing what she had always dreamt of doing.
Parts of him had cursed himself for ending their engagement, but as much as he had wanted to follow her and help her chase her dream with him by her side, he hadn’t been able to leave. He had broken both their hearts with hurtful words spurred on by the anger he had directed at himself and at the circumstances he hadn’t been able to rip himself free from. 
“This is Tyler Owens, I’m sure some of you may know his channel. He’ll talk to you about storm chasing today, please bear in mind that you’ll get enough time for questions after his talk.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to get lost in the eyes she had always tried to look for in every room. Eyes that had once held their shared secrets. Eyes that had watched her grow into a young woman after meeting when they had been mere teenagers. Eyes that still appeared in her dreams whenever her mind needed a reset from the battles she was currently fighting.
The sound of loud claps filled the room, he moved closer with a smile glued to his lips - a smile that slightly began to drop as she mumbled a quiet “I’ll be in my office” while brushing past him.
……
“Hey,” Tyler’s voice filled her office. A soft sigh left (y/n) as she forced herself to look at him, unable to bite down the hurt that had been clawing at her skin since the second he had first entered her office hours ago. “You missed an interesting class.”
“I,” she cleared her throat while shifting around on her seat. “I watched the stream. You were good, they loved you.”
“Well, what can I say? We have a big fan community.” A soft laugh managed to leave her before she could stop the sound, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Will you grab dinner with me? I think we’ve got some catching up to do.” 
She should have said no. She should have kindly told him that she had other plans. But knowing that she’d most likely not see him again for years and years to come felt like a punch to her gut. So all she did was nod her head and grab her purse, ready to leave her office for the day.
No words were spoken between them as he guided her towards his truck, the same one she had seen in his videos. It felt strange being here with him, sitting in the truck that added to this internet persona of his she was a stranger to, barely recognising the man he was now. 
“It’s bigger than I expected it to be.” (Y/n) blurted out the words while she looked around the truck, watching Tyler drive them to the spot he seemed to have in mind. The smirk tugging on his lips told her that she had just shared something she shouldn’t have, letting him in on the knowledge that she was watching his videos every now and then.
“I always wondered if you were watching us. They miss you, you know.” Nothing but a hum managed to pass her lips, unable to speak up as her throat grew tighter. It had been years since she had last seen his crew, the people she had once called her friends and had cut off the second she had left home, unable to think of anything that had something to do with Tyler. Years had passed before (y/n) had allowed herself to get back into all things storm chasing, which also meant catching up with Tyler and his work. 
“I miss them too.” Her eyes flickered down to his right hand which seemed to move in her direction but before Tyler could touch her, he pulled back again, balling a fist that rested on his thigh. It hurt her more than she had thought to see him like that, seemingly struggling just as much as she did with their newfound distance after all these years. And yet they were still bound together, by something neither could put a finger on. 
“Thought we could visit Mary Jane’s, for old times’ sake.” She couldn’t reply, not when one memory after another caught up with her. They had lost count on the amount of times they had chased in that area, grabbing dinner and coffees at Mary Jane’s at any given chance. A bittersweet memory that only worsened the heavy feeling settling on her chest. 
After parking the truck, she watched him round the car to help her down, keeping his hand placed on the small of her back for a second too long. It felt as if Tyler had to force himself to let go, to remember that she no longer was his to touch, even though it only felt right to keep close. 
“So, tell me, professor. What did I miss? What did you do the last few years? Your mom didn’t tell me much.” Her focus was ripped from the menu at the mention of her mother. She hadn’t told (y/n) anything about being in touch with Tyler, hadn’t dropped his name once. Every now and then (y/n) had wanted to ask about him, knowing that her mother was most likely at least watching his videos, but something had always held her back. Perhaps she had been too scared to hear of stuff she wouldn’t be able to stomach, wondering if he had moved on, if he had found another woman to spend the rest of his life with. 
“You’re still in touch with her?” The approaching waitress momentarily distracted them both, taking on their orders while (y/n)’s gaze kept flickering back to Tyler. Seeing him again had made everything more complicated, a distraction she hadn’t needed, but as much as she wanted to run and hide from the past, she also couldn’t stop herself from wanting to ask all these questions burning on the tip of her tongue. 
“Well, I call her every Christmas and on her birthday, and she does the same.” An unjustified anger simmered inside of her, drawing a frown onto her features while averting her gaze. It felt unfair that he and her mother had kept in touch, sharing details about their experiences and what they had done over the past years – all while (y/n) had fought so hard for a clean start away from her past. “Hey, look at me, pretty.”
“Don’t call me that, Tyler.” Hurt flashed over his features, a sight that only worsened the pain she felt deep inside of her. 
God, what was she even doing here? There was nothing left to say, nothing but a proper goodbye so she could go back to her day and forget the pain she had tried to bury six feet under. 
“Listen, (y/n).” Tyler reached for her hand before she could pull away, forcing her to keep her focus on him. “I didn’t do it right back then, should have sat you down and told you everything I feared and worried about. I should have given you the chance to make this decision for yourself. But I don’t regret giving you an out, you deserved to experience every dream, everything you have worked so hard for. Don’t blame me for wanting you to live the best possible life you could dream to live.”
“But what if all of those dreams had lost their meaning without you? What if nothing worked the same way without you by my side?” A tear dripped from her eye before she could try to wipe it away. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t read what was swimming in his pupils. Nothing but hurt and confusion that made her pull her hand away from his big one. “This was a mistake.”
She pushed herself out of the booth and rushed outside while more tears kept on falling. The shaky exhale leaving her drowned out the sound of Tyler calling for her, catching up with (y/n) before he pulled her against his broad chest. Sobs clawed through her as Tyler’s hand kept stroking up and down her spine, holding her close. 
“I got you, darling, I always will.”
……
“Here, do you need anything else?” It had been hours since her breakdown at the diner. Hours that had been filled with a shared dinner, memories that had been whispered about and eventually a drive back to her place. It had already been late by the time they had left Mary Jane’s, leading her to invite Tyler to stay in her guest room for the night. 
“I’m alright, thank you, darling.” Tyler shot her a smile before he pulled her in for another hug. With a kiss pressed to her hairline, he eventually let go of her, watching (y/n) leave the room after a few hesitant seconds.  
Her heart was racing until she found herself laying restless in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The past hours kept replaying, flashing past her open eyes while wondering if Tyler had managed to fall asleep. Seeing him again had ripped open all old wounds, leaving her confused and torn between too many sensations. For the last years she had tried to move on, had gone on many dates that had led to nothing but a hopeless feeling that she may never get over Tyler and the love she still felt for him. A feeling that had now resurfaced once again. 
With an annoyed sigh clawing through her, (y/n) left her bedroom again, freezing in her step as she found Tyler’s frame standing near the window in her living room, staring down on the city. Slowly, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around herself as she came to a halt next to him. 
“Couldn’t sleep?” His raspy voice made goosebumps rise on her skin, forcing her to shake her head while trying to keep her focus on the lights. A few seconds of silence passed before Tyler wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her against his side. “I missed you, pretty.”
This time she didn’t comment on it, could only push herself further into his embrace to search for his warmth. Wordlessly Tyler pulled her along to her sofa, plopping down on it before she placed her head on his chest, falling back into a routine that felt too familiar. 
“Do you think we would have been married by now if things hadn’t ended?” The question was whispered, rolling off her tongue without giving it much thought. (Y/n) had always wondered about their wedding, how it would have played out, who they would have invited and where it would have taken place. 
“Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer before calling you my wife.” His soft chuckle vibrated through both their bodies, drawing a smile onto her lips. 
“I was so excited for it. It would have been the best day.” Tyler tightened his grip on her waist while pressing another kiss to her hairline. For a moment, neither of them spoke, keeping quiet as their thoughts began to spiral. She felt his muscles tense beneath her, making her wonder what he was about to speak while the night wrapped its comforting veil around them. 
“It can still be the best day.” Her heart skipped a beat, wondering what he meant by that. Her eyes found his, seeing the way he was torn by whatever kept buzzing through his mind. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and yet the way he looked at her, filled with something she hadn’t felt in years, left her wondering if he was still talking about the two of them. 
“What are you saying, Tyler?” His hand came up to cup her cheek, feeling her warmth pressing against his hand. Seconds of silence blurred by, making both their hearts race while he fought to find the right words. 
“I won’t ever be able to love anybody the way I love you, and that will never change. And judging by what you told me, it’s the same for you. Marry me, for real this time.” She pushed herself off his chest, rising to her feet with a teary laugh that was torn between excitement and sadness. (Y/n) stared down at him with her fingers buried in her hair, trying to figure out if this was just a joke fate was playing on her. 
“That’s insane, Tyler.” He mimicked her movements to draw her back in, hands resting on her waist. 
“You know what they say, pretty, if you feel it, chase it. And I’m so tired of living this life without you by my side.” Her body forced her to move, to close the distance between them with her lips finding his. Electricity buzzed down her spine, forcing her even closer to deepen the kiss. Kissing Tyler had always been an experience to say the least, two magnets that fit together, an explosion of heat and longing, and yet this felt even better than all these years ago. It felt right, more right than anything else. 
Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up, forcing her legs to find their way around his waist. Tyler carried her back to her bedroom, letting them rest on her mattress with him hovering over her. 
“Do you mean it? Really mean it?” (Y/n) mumbled the question against his lips. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, a warm touch that communicated what both felt at that moment, an undying longing that grew stronger with every passing second. 
“Marry me, (y/n).” Another laugh clawed through her, a sound that turned into a moan the second his lips found her neck, kissing their way down to her collarbones. 
“Alright, I will marry you.” Tyler kissed her again as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt to pull it over her head, exposing her naked frame to his wandering eyes. 
“You’re even more gorgeous, fuck. I can’t wait to make you mine again.” Her eyes fluttered close as he tugged on her panties, pushing them down her legs. Tyler’s mouth kissed its way to her aching heat, groaning the second he tasted her again after all these years. With both arms slung around her thighs to keep her close, he ate her out, letting his rough tongue brush through her slit before sucking on her pulsing bundle.
Moans and groans left both, high on the different feelings both were held hostage by. No longer could (y/n) remember if being with Tyler had always felt like that, all she knew was that she never wanted this moment to end. She’d happily be stuck in time like that, forever reunited with the one that had gotten away. 
Tyler let his gaze rest on her pleasure-drunken features, trying not to get too eager while his hardening cock begged for her attention. He’d fuck her all through the night and then some more in the morning, having to burn every passing moment into his mind to fight against the fear of waking up in a few hours from a too good to be true dream.
“Tyler,” his name rolled off her tongue, spurring him on to push her over the edge. (Y/n) had her back arched off the comfortable mattress, hands fisting the blanket while her first orgasm clashed through her like a ship hitting the cold ocean ground. She lost control of the moment, could only give room to her sounds the blinding sensation pushed through her. 
He kept lapping at her folds, prolonging her orgasm while he couldn’t bite down his proud smirk. Tyler still knew her body like the back of his hand, able to map her out even with both eyes closed as if she had always been his. 
“What will it be, darling? What do you want?” Tyler’s voice had grown lower, raspier even while he still lingered between her trembling thighs. He watched her heavily exhale, needing to ground herself before letting her twinkling eyes find his. 
“I need you inside of me, now, Tyler.” Without having to ask twice, he followed her command, getting rid of his shirt and his tight boxers before finding his way back to her. He watched her fish for a condom, helping him roll it down his length as both their hands shook from the anticipation and excitement they couldn’t shake. 
Somehow it reminded her of her first night with Tyler, the first time he had fucked her in the back of his truck in the middle of nowhere. It had been the best night of her life, or so she had always thought - until today at least. 
With his lips pressed against hers, he kept himself close as he pushed into her, slowly. Both groaned at the feeling, no longer used to being connected this intimately. She clung to him with her nails clawed into the soft skin of his back, needing to adjust for a few seconds before a soft “please” managed to leave her. 
They weren’t in a rush, weren’t set on chasing a high within a handful of seconds, but it felt too good to have one another back again, set on giving their all to the other. Every thrust hit her swollen spot, every thrust reminded (y/n) of the way Tyler had always managed to make her feel - as if he was the match setting a petrol station ablaze, a heat so strong it could melt her skin right off her body. 
Forever his, forever hers, a story so complete, neither could manage to put it into words. 
Their bodies met with every faster growing thrust, set on feeling her walls flutter around him while he kissed her breathless. She stared up at him, getting lost in the eyes that were filled with a love so strong, she was sure that neither of them would be able to let go ever again. 
“Atta girl, you’re doing so well for me. I got you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck while he deeply exhaled. Both tried to drag out the moment, hoping that they could stay connected for longer, but their bodies had other plans, needing another high while falling off the edge together.
Tyler’s hand found her right thigh, pulling it closer to her body to hit deeper spots that made both groan. She snuck a hand between their bodies to circle her pulsing bundle, desperate for the relief cumming around him would push through her. Encouraging praises and sweet nothings left Tyler, spurring her on to let go before he could. 
And then (y/n) came again, high on everything he embraced while another moan left her. Tyler fucked her for a few more moments, chasing his own orgasm before he groaned against her warm skin. The feeling buzzing through them both only grew stronger, keeping them united while they tried to catch their breaths.
“Are we really doing this? This is insane.” Her breathless laugh filled the room, leaving Tyler chuckling while he lifted his head off her chest. He looked at her for a moment, pressed a kiss to her slightly swollen lips and then pulled out of her.
“We are, and I can’t wait to finally call you my wife.”
695 notes · View notes
redeemingvillains · 2 months
Text
cold comfort - mattheo riddle
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summary: mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.
word count: 4k
soundtrack: between the sheets - imogen heap
a/n: wait this is kind of a saga! it just kept flowing and flowing, but i'm obsessed with it! hope you enjoy!! ♡♡
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When Matteo heard that a first year in Charms cast a spell that backfired so badly it rendered Hogwarts unable to regulate the temperature in the castle, he'd nearly spit out his firewhiskey. The mental image of Flitwick, McGonagall and all of his other professors frantically trying to fix it to no avail gave him sick pleasure as he thought about all the times they'd looked down on him because of his last name. Fuck 'em he thought. Serves them right.
He'd enjoyed his twisted happiness for several days until an unexpected early spring snowstorm rolled off the mountains, leaving the castle a veritable chamber of cold. For two days now it had nearly been cold enough for him to see the white puff of his breath inside. As others scrambled for a place in front of the fireplaces, his mood darkened, making him even more sullen than usual as talk of canceling classes and sending everyone home began to circulate; home wasn't really a place he was looking to go back to.
So now he was sat in the Great Hall in a large sweatshirt with his hood drawn up around his face, the standard dress code long since forgotten, one hand wound tightly around his second cup of black tea in an effort to warm himself while the other rubbed his tired face as he listened to the incessant chatter of his friends.
He was quietly zoned out until he caught a glimpse of you walking through the large entryway. Everyone in the castle looked in disarray: mismatched sweaters, hats and gloves in haphazard layers to stay warm, but not you, you looked like a perfect snowbunny. You were wearing tight black leggings, fur-lined boots, a thick sweater and a headband to keep your ears warm that complimented your hair. Anyone looking closely enough would see the imperceptible tug of his lips into what could almost be called a smile as you made your way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench next to him.
It wasn't lost on him that his best friend was beautiful. He was well and painfully aware of the fact and had been for as long as he'd known you. But, despite the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind at the sight of you, he was determined to keep you at an arm's length. Simply put, you were too good for him, too pure. You had a smile that radiated a warmth that he could feel even now, you were caring and compassionate, smart and sweet, quick with a hug and a kind word. You were everything that he wasn't. He told himself, constantly, on repeat, that it was better to have you in his life at all than to fuck it up trying for anything more.
He subtly traced your face through the corner of his eye: your long lashes, the curve of your smile, and your warm, rosy cheeks, and just like no one but you could see his smile, no one but him noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He nudged his shoulder into yours.
"Alright?" he mumbled.
You glanced up at him, his groggy morning voice and the way his curls stuck out from his hood making you feel like you'd swallowed a pixie. You felt yourself flush, your exhaustion wearing down the mask you normally kept up around him, determined to never let him know how you really felt.
"Just tired s'all" you smiled kindly, nudging him back, coaxing what could almost be another smile out of him as you met each other's eyes. "I can't sleep for shit. No matter what I do, I can't get warm, even under a pile of blankets, in my fuzziest pajamas and a jumper" you shivered.
"Skin to skin is really the only solution" Pansy chimed in with a smirk as she sank further into Draco's arms and you rolled your eyes at the two of them. She had snuck out of your room the last few nights, leaving you not only cold, but alone too.
"Couldn't agree more" Theo said, smirking, before lifting an eyebrow at you "ready, able and at your service, babe" he said, opening his arms to you as you swatted him away, laughing at his attempt to flirt with you. He smiled widely and laughed back before glancing over your shoulder at Matteo whose eyes were narrowed in his direction.
"What, mate, it's not like you're any help, what with your strict 'no sleepover policy'" Theo chirped at him, referring to the fact that regardless of how many girls came in and out of Mattheo's bed, (which was a sizable number) not one had ever stayed the night, always kicked out in the end, despite the fact that they hoped to be the one to break his streak.
You turned to see Mattheo shooting daggers at Theo.
"S'my bed" he muttered, "more than happy to have someone in it for awhile, but a lad's got to get his rest, yeah?" he laughed and the guys laughed back.
You faked a bitter smile, returning your attention to your breakfast in front of you. You weren't naive but that didn't mean you had to sit here and listen to this, you nibbled a piece of dry toast, the mental image of Mattheo with other girls making you nauseous.
Matteo's smile fell from his face as he watched your reaction, and wished for the thousandth time that he could tell you that he made that rule because of you. Because if he couldn't have you, then he wasn't going to waste time getting closer than necessary with anyone else. The nights he spent alone his bed his punishment for who he was, the fact that he'd never be good enough for you.
You stood abruptly and shot him a small smile as you moved to leave. He said your name quietly and reached for your hand, but you were gone before you realized it.
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That night you crawled into cold sheets that felt almost damp with a chill. Despite the pile of blankets and your thick pajamas, you couldn't get warm or comfortable, tossing and turning as small shivers ran through your body and Pansy's words echoed in your head. You were desperate for warmth at this point, desperate for a good night's sleep, but there was only one bed you wanted to crawl into, and it was with the only person who refused to share it.
Surely he would break his rule for you, for his best friend? you thought; things were different between you two. But were you willing to try, to embarrass yourself if he said no? You rolled around for another hour before climbing out of bed.
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Mattheo was in a fitful sleep, which was not unusual for him; his nights were frequented by nightmares, leaving him constantly groggy and grumpy, but when he heard your voice, he was sure he was dreaming, a good dream, a great dream at that.
"Mattheo" you were whispering.
He turned to see you standing at the other side of his bed and was incredibly confused, until you moved to get in... and then he panicked. He panicked because he had thoughtfully planned every way to avoid this exact situation from the moment he met you, knowing that at this proximity he wouldn't be able to control himself. And he was right. You were close, too close. He could smell your shampoo, like warm vanilla, and his hands moved on autopilot towards you, his fingers twitching to bring you closer to him before he stopped himself, inches short.
"Whatareyoudoing?!" he whisper-mumbled in frustration, the words coming out angrier than he'd intended at the range of emotions he was feeling.
You froze, your heart shattering. He was angry. He didn't want you here, he didn't want anyone here. He was going to kick you out and you'd be mortified, your friendship would never be the same, you'd taken things too far. You felt a scratch in your throat as tears threatened to spring forward.
Even in the thick darkness, Mattheo could see that he'd upset you, able to read your expressions better than his own. He could see the wobble of your bottom lip as your wide eyes looked at him and he hated himself and the situation all the more for it.
"Please Matty, m'just so cold, I can't sleep" you whispered, using the nickname that was strictly forbidden for anyone but you that made him melt.
He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply, trying in his sleepy state to figure out a solution as he felt his strength waning; the figment of his every daydream was literally begging to be in his bed and he was certain he couldn't trust himself, certain that this only ended one way.
You took in his rigid form and his frustration and began to backpedal, moving to leave.
"M'sorry, it's okay, I'll go, maybe Theo—"
And you didn't even get a chance to finish your thought before you felt his large, warm hands wrap around your middle and tug you across the bed and into his chest, quickly but gently.
"C'mere" he mumbled as he settled you against him, chest to chest, your head tucked under his.
Your arms wound around him naturally, your legs intertwining, the two of you fitting together effortlessly, perfectly, like puzzle pieces. You let out a small giggle as you nuzzled into him, making yourself comfortable.
He could feel your warm breath as you let out a contented sigh, the innocent sound somehow sinful to his ears as he willed his mind to stop wandering in every direction it wanted to as he felt every dip and curve of your body against his own despite the layers of clothing between you. He kept his hands at your back, unmoving, for a moment unsure if he was even doing this right, unable to remember the last time he'd cuddled with anyone.
"Thank you" you whispered, your voice already sounding relaxed and sleepy to him as your fingers traced patterns on his back, a lavish feeling that released every ounce of tension he had been holding.
You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as his arms hugged you to him firmly and you felt a sensation like melted honey spreading through every inch of you, as he rubbed your back, warming you from your heart to the tips of your toes for the first time in days as you fell into a hazy sleep.
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The first thought Mattheo had was that he felt heavy, his limbs felt weighted and his mind felt calm. Rested he realized after a moment. His brain was slowly turning back on, piecing together the dream he'd had, it was a dream, right? You, in his bed, in his arms, pressed against him, nuzzling into him, contented and happy. It felt so real, real enough that he could still smell you, the intoxicating scent of your shampoo, could still feel you in his arms, could still ghost his fingers down your back. You hummed in response and his eyes fluttered open only to realize it was definitely not a dream.
You were here, with him, in his bed, had been all night, your body still wound perfectly in his, neither of you having let go of one another or moved an inch; if anything, it was like you melded together even further. Fuck this is nice he thought as he looked down at you curled into his chest. This was everything, everything he'd hoped it would be. He wanted to stay like this for as long as physically possible, the looming fear of it having to come to an end already upon him.
Suddenly, a pillow came flying onto the bed, askewing the thick curtains that draped around his four-poster.
"Oi wake up, will you, Riddle? Shit, it's almost noon and we've got practice in an hour" came a shout as a cacophony of voices followed behind it into the room.
You stirred in Mattheo's arms just as a hand reached through his curtains to pull them aside.
"Oh. My. Fucking. Days" Blaise drawled, annunciating every word as the others gathered around him.
"I knew it, I fucking knew it"
"Let's gooooooo!!"
"Mattttyyyy!!!" each of them shouted as the jumped up and down in excitement at the sight of you in his bed.
"Fuck off" he said, grasping the pillow they'd thrown at him and hucking it back at them, causing them to disperse as they fell apart with laughter and more cheers.
He felt you shift next to him and looked back to see that you had pulled the covers over your head, just the tips of your fingers and the top of your head visible. He yanked his curtain closed before leaning back towards you and gently grasping the blanket near your hands to pull it back.
While not the wakeup you had hoped for nor expected, Mattheo pulling back the blankets with a soft sleep-ridden smile on his face and his rumpled curls to see you was a mental image that you were sure you would think about every day for the rest of your life. You were swimming in a sea of him, engulfed in his smell, like pine and amber, and you were delightfully warm; he was going to have to pry you out of here.
"Hi" he said quietly in his morning voice.
"Hi" you whispered back.
You looked perfect. He may have thought about waking up to you, with significantly less clothing on and significantly fewer onlookers, but he'd never considered how beautiful you would look, your eyes not all the way open yet, your hair spread like a blanket of its own and fuck if he didn't want to kiss you. His eyes drifted lazily to your lips and back again and he swore he saw a flash of something in your expression in response, curiosity, or perhaps confusion.
"I should—" he started, shaking his head clear.
"—Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn't realize the time—"
"No problem, take your time—" he said as he rolled out of bed to more cheers and shouts as he shepherded his friends out the door to give you some privacy.
You pulled the sheets back over your heard, burying yourself further into his blankets, reveling in the warmth his body had left before squealing with excitement at the way your day had started.
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You were afraid that things would be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't, you were in your easy, unbothered rhythm together. Besides the giggles and teasing from your friends, nothing had changed... including the temperature. As the day went on the warmth you had woken up in faded and you felt progressively more cold settling into your bones, already dreading the cold night ahead of you.
Spending the night with Mattheo was a nice reprieve, but not something you intended to make a habit of, certain you didn't want to live through more teasing nor get your hopes up trying to read into how intimate it had felt.
You were leaving dinner, arms wound around yourself at the chill in the air when you heard a voice calling for you. You turned to see Mattheo jogging after you.
"Hey!" he called.
"Hey" you smiled back, glancing up at him as he fell into step with you.
He smiled readily back at you; he'd seemed peppier today, letting the ceaseless taunting roll of his back with a shrug of his shoulders, the unwillingness to turn everything into an argument or fistfight very uncharacteristic of him.
"Yeah, so—" he started to say, as he looked around for a moment and carded his hand through his hair. He took in how cold you looked and all he could think was how badly he wanted to fix it. "—About last night or whatever...I know it's still fucking frigid, if you wanted to come by or sleep with, er, stay with — in my — yeah, you could do it again if you wanted?"
You couldn't hide the smile the spread widely across your face, nor the way your eyes sparkled mischievously as you stopped walking to face him.
"Mattheo Riddle, are you asking me to sleep with you?" you said flirtatiously, leaning towards him.
He stopped breathing. Your proximity and the words coming out of your mouth snatched every last breath and every last thought he'd had.
"Don't fuck around with me" he said through smirked lips, his voice low and measured, holding a hint of playfulness, but also a warning.
You laughed softly back but didn't back down.
"I'll see you tonight" you said as you continued your path back to the common room, leaving him gazing after you.
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Your new outfit that night wasn't lost on him. You were wearing a form-fitting pair of soft pants and a matching top that hung slightly off your shoulder, revealing the lace of a bralette. You crawled into bed beside him, smiling contentedly and curling into his arms like you were married, like this was the most normal, easy, simple thing in the world, and yet it still took him a minute to really comprehend the situation, to relax.
He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Blaise shouted across the room, "Goodnight Theo!"
"Night, Blaise!" Theo shouted back.
"Night, Enz!" Blaise said again.
"G'night!" Enzo replied.
Mattheo rubbed a hand over his face at the antic.
"I swear they don't do this every—" he started.
"—Night, Draco!" Blaise shouted.
"And Pans!" Theo chimed in.
"Full fuckin' house in here" Enzo said.
"Goodnight!" she giggled back.
"Goodnight Mattheo..." Blaise said slowly, drawling out his name.
Mattheo didn't reply.
"GOODNIGHT YN" they each shouted.
You laughed, "Goodnight!" you said back and they cheered as Mattheo turned and buried his head into your shoulder in embarrassment, letting his body weight fall on you in exasperation.
You laughed at his reaction, instinctively bringing a hand to tangle in his curls and hold him to you before you could stop yourself. It was decidedly more intimate than anything that had happened between you before, but it had just felt right, something about pulling him into you, comforting him. You paused after a moment, catching yourself... running your hands through his hair should not make you feel this way; suddenly, you were very very warm.
As if he could sense your reaction, he lifted his head just slightly to meet your eyes, his face inches from yours.
He had to feel your heart hammering in your chest at this proximity, right? As he searched your face, it felt like a veil had come down between the two of you after a night spent together on top of years spent dancing around one another like you didn't know exactly what this could be. On cue, the room around you fell deeply silent as the others settled into sleep.
Your hand slowly dropped to trace his cheek.
"YN" he said in a low voice, cautious, guarded, his tone roughly translating to "Don't".
"What?" you whispered.
"I can't" he said.
"Can't what, Matty?"
The nickname made his heart beat double-time, an impossible feat based on the way it was already drumming loudly in his ears.
"You know what" he said sternly.
"Why?" you asked, innocently, the tips of your fingers moving to trace his jaw, nearing his lips before his hand grasped yours firmly, stopping you, making you jump slightly.
His body was rigid and taught, his expression was serious, maybe even threatening to anyone but you, but all you could see was the look in his eyes that were burning with something else, something much more passionate than anger.
His words were strained, like it was a physical effort to form them.
"I. Can't. Alright? Just let it go" he said as his eyes continued to beg otherwise.
Your next words were so soft, he almost didn't hear them, might have missed them if his entire being wasn't fine tuned to hear the exact phrase.
"Kiss me" you said, somewhere between a plea and a demand.
He caught your eye and his breath caught in his throat at the way you were looking at him: your eyes wide, soft and focused on him, your chest visibly rising and falling underneath him, your body pressing against him as you wiggled your hand out of his grasp to trace his cheek. Surely he couldn't have heard you right?
"I'm not—I can't— that's not a good idea. I can't just kiss you" he said, stumbling over his words uncharacteristically.
"Why?" you asked quietly, sadly.
"No—not—fuck—" he started and stopped, trying not to upset you again.
He paused, trying to collect himself.
"Why do you think no other girl has slept in this bed?" he said seriously.
You pulled your hand back at the mention of other girls at a moment like this, but he responded by reaching to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him.
You were shaking your head.
"Because if I couldn't have you, then I didn't want anyone else. You're fucking it for me, always have been, but girls like you don't end up with guys like me and it's best I don't waste your fucking time and ruin our friendship in the process, alright?" he said resolutely, with finality.
"Matty—" you started
"—Please stop calling me that, please" he said, slamming his eyes closed, "I'm trying to maintain a semblance of self control here."
"Stop holding back!" you whisper-yelled, which caught his attention, causing his eyes to flutter open. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I want you. I've always wanted you, ask any of our thickheaded friends, they've all known for a long time."
He blinked slowly like each individual word had to register in his head. You could see him swallow, could see the sentence process in his brain as the pad of his thumb traced your cheek and you leaned into him, pressing further against him.
"Kiss me, Matty" you said.
And the last thread of his self control snapped. He leaned in, hovering close enough that you could feel the faintest touch of his lips as they ghosted against yours, teasing you.
"If I kiss you, that's it then, you're mine" he said, like it was a threat, an ultimatum, and not the best thing that's ever happened to you.
A smile spread across your lips and you nodded against his.
"All yours" you whispered back and he caught the last of your words with his mouth, his lips taking yours as both of his hands came to grasp your face firmly but gently, pulling you into him.
You could barely suppress the hum of pleasure that left you at the sensation, the relief of the feeling of his lips pillowed against yours, the tenderness and softness so opposite of everything that he was, the duality of it all had your body tingling. One of your hands grasped at his sweatshirt while the other wound around his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you as he moaned into your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and you swore there wasn't anything in the world but this moment, this feeling with him as you tasted the lingering flavor of cigarettes and peppermint that you would come to associate with him.
It was all grabbing, desperate hands and crashed lips at first, trying in moments to catch up on years of wanting, until it was tantalizingly slow, languid, purely achingly perfect and intimate. You were certain you would kiss him like this every single day, given the chance.
It could have been minutes or hours that you were lost in each other before he pulled back, and the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and marching you to the first broom closet he could find.
"I've spent just about every day for the last 5 years thinking about this, and I cannot believe I'm about to fuckin' say this, but I'm not gonna rush it. At the very least, I'm not gonna hook up with you in a room full of people" he said, before tilting his head, "Well, at least not the first time... after that, no promises."
You laughed quietly and swatted at his shoulder.
"C'mere" he said, pulling you into him.
You curled into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck, your head resting on his chest as he held you tightly, brushing soft kisses to your temple as you fell asleep.
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E P I L O G U E
You had been so caught up in the events of the evening, you hadn't really stopped to consider what happens next, namely, how would you tell your friends? Just make an announcement at breakfast? Put on enough PDA that they drew their own conclusion? Take off the scarf you were wearing that was covering the innumerable hickies on your neck? Your mind was in a heady fog about it all as the group of you wandered towards the Great Hall.
You were glued to Mattheo's side, but that wasn't really unusual; his fingers brushed against your own as he shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.
"YN!" a voice shouted behind you.
You turned to see Cedric Diggory jogging towards you and you slowed your pace, as did everyone around you. Boys had to be either brave, stupid or naive to approach you when you were with your guy friends, and you weren't sure which category to put Cedric in as his eyes met their unwelcome stares but addressed you anyway.
"Sorry— yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to—" he started.
Oh no you thought.
"—Cedric, really, that's so kind—" you interrupted, trying to prevent a scene from breaking out as you felt Mattheo tense beside you.
"—You didn't even hear what I was going to say?" he said with a laugh, somewhere between offended, annoyed and amused.
"Well, think that makes the message pretty clear then, mate" Mattheo said, the anger palpable in his tone.
"Excuse me?" Cedric replied. "I was talking to—"
Oh no you thought again.
And you weren't quick enough to intervene before Mattheo had Cedric pinned against the stone wall of the hallway, his forearm at Cedric's chest, nearly lifting him off the ground as his feet dangled for purchase.
"I don't fucking care who you were talking to. From now on, you don't talk to her at all, alright?"
"What are you, her bodyguard?" Cedric sputtered as he gasped for breath.
"No" ... a pause... "I'm her boyfriend" Mattheo growled.
You tried and failed to hide the huge smile on your face behind your manicured fingers as your friends shouted behind you.
Well, that's one way to do it you thought. ♡
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lady-phasma · 6 months
Text
Diplomatic relations
Feyd x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI! NSFW, spit as lube (I guess, kinda), penetration, honestly a little tame compared to my usual stuff.
The poll came in at 57% soft!Feyd so here we go. This is probably as soft as I can make him.
Summary: No physical description of reader. Feyd is on a diplomatic tour of an unnamed planet (not Caladan) under Harkonnen rule. You catch his eye, smuttiness ensues. Plot if you squint. 4k words
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You looked away almost as soon as his eyes met yours. You didn’t want to be caught staring at the na-Baron. Feyd-Rautha’s presence on your planet had cause quite the uproar. Though many of the houses were pawns for the Harkonnen, some still remained who defied the colonizers. Your house couldn’t openly oppose the Harkonnen, but you knew that they were not respected. They were feared. They were fearsome after all. The na-Baron’s delegation had been sent to keep the peace, to quell uprisings, to provide confidence to the planet. You supposed it worked for some.
However, you wondered if the na-Baron was enthusiastic about his diplomatic responsibilities. He looked bored and distracted. You hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to notice one person out of the hundreds who crowded the city streets to show allegiance. But someone had caught his eye. He straightened a bit, turning his head slightly to look at you as the procession moved on. You swallowed hard and looked away again.
Your thoughts whirled and spun the rest of the day. That night, you would be in the same room as the na-Baron, possibly as close as the next table. Your house had the “honor” of hosting him on his first night in the city. You were preoccupied as you went about your errands, looked over the financial ledgers, dressed for the dinner. The hours seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, dragging on for days.
As you walked into the main hall that evening your eyes searched for the na-Baron. You didn’t even realize you were doing it until a servant spoke to you and you hadn’t heard them. You nodded, unsure to what you were agreeing, and walked through the groups of people mingling and conversing.
You found your seat at the secondary table. The head table was reserved for the Duke and his guests. You continued to scan the room, lost in thought, unable to put your finger on why you were intrigued by the na-Baron. You barely heard the sounds around you, the chattering was a dull noise. You felt a chair pull out next to you but didn’t register who the occupant was until it was too late.
Feyd’s fingers stroked the utensils on the place setting, lightly aligning any that were askew. You looked up from his pale hands to his face. You were startled to see that he was staring at you. The Harkonnen skin and hairlessness were disarming amidst the bright colors of the hall.
“You must be old enough to know that it is rude to stare,” Feyd smirked as he spoke. “Surely you have seen a Harkonnen envoy before?”
“I- I-“ you stumbled over your tongue, then swallowed. “Yes, my Lord na-baron, I have seen such an envoy before.”
“And?” Feyd stretched the word out.
“Yes, I came of age last year and I know my manners,” you replied. You straightened your shoulders, squared them, and turned to face him more fully. “Did you need assistance to find your seat?”
Feyd laughed. His black teeth caught the light and you stopped a gasp before it could leave your mouth. They were almost horrible to look at, but the lips that surrounded them dulled that impression, somewhat.
The laugh was mocking but amused. He understood your tone as well as your impertinence. His blue eyes on you sent a chill down your spine. Almost as quickly as the laugh had appeared, it was gone. The grin that replaced it was somehow worse.
“No,” he spoke so lowly that it sounded as if the words rumbled from his chest. “No, I believe I already found my seat.”
There was no one on the planet who could make him move and the Duke was too subservient to object. Resigned, you turned back to the table and sipped your wine. All of your emotions mixed together: anger at his presumption, mild fear of his capabilities, and, strangest of all, curiosity. This man was intriguing and intensely attractive in a completely mad way.
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Your food was unremarkable and you barely noticed if you had eaten any or not when they carried the plates away. Your dinner companion barely spoke at all. His interactions with the nobility were perfunctory and diplomatic. There was constantly an air of boredom about him. As imperious as he seemed, you didn’t think that this detachment was intentional. He understood his role here, his duty, but his thoughts were constantly elsewhere.
Only once during dinner did you interact with Feyd. Purely by accident, you turned to him to ask a very discourteous question. You caught yourself but he saw your face and wouldn’t let you go. Like an animal in a trap.
“How may I be of service?” His grin was infuriating. Without context, anyone looking on would think he was being as pleasant as was possible for him.
“It was nothing,” you tried not to spit the words at him, irrationally angry at that grin.
“No, please,” he leaned forward onto his elbows, grin falling just a bit as he dropped his voice. “Go ahead. I won’t command you, but I could.”
Your eyes widened at this, this threat. Was it a threat or a jest? You couldn’t read that infernal mouth. You made your face a mask, attempting to conceal any emotion.
“You could…” you began. “However, that shouldn’t be necessary.” Your chest began to tighten as you spoke. The feeling in your stomach wasn’t new but you hadn’t felt this in a long time. You felt like, no, it wasn’t possible… You felt as if you were flirting with him, and he with you.
“I was going to ask, Lord na-Baron, what is it you would rather be doing that sitting here? It’s a rather improper question, so I bit my tongue.” The truth seemed like the only way out of this trap.
You did not expect his smile to fall completely. Only for the briefest of moments he let his surprise show. He recovered and quipped back at you.
“Quite improper, but my answer would be much more so.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, feeling he had won this round. A blush ran up your face, evidence of his victory.
After the Duke and his retinue offered the required pleasantries and excused themselves, the guests rose and began to leave the main hall. You stood before Feyd and succeeded in not looking at him as you began to walk away.
As you turned down the passageway, headed to your quarters, you heard heavy footfalls behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and the tightness in your stomach redoubled. There were only a few of the household staff remaining in the halls. You were nearly alone with the na-Baron. Your mind offered, unbidden, the word exhilarating.
His strides were long enough that he caught up with you in little time. His height was impressive after having been sitting next to him. Not much taller than yourself but tall enough to command attention.
“Were you tired of my company?” One corner of his lip curled in a smirk. “Or were you nervous I might answer your impertinent question?”
You stopped walking at this. He turned and looked at you, studying you.
“No, my Lord na-Baron,” you replied levelly. “I could not tell which you enjoyed more: my company or mocking me.”
His smile faltered then grew. You assumed no one ever told him the truth. You knew you could become afraid of him, perhaps should be, but you weren’t yet. Two chattering guests walked past and you moved to the edge of the hallway to let them pass.
Feyd stepped past you and leaned against the wall, his long coat belying the muscular figure underneath. Your breathing became shallow. His proximity to you was informal. It was unnerving. You couldn’t know what he was thinking and his smile was always simultaneously pleasant and malicious.
“Your confusion shows on your face,” he whispered. “What are you trying to discern?”
“Well, um, you, Lord na-Baron,” you dropped your gaze from his. “I do not yet know if I can trust you.”
Feyd dipped his head to meet your eyes and force you to look at him. He was barely smiling at all. His brows furrowed earnestly.
“You can trust me. I am only ever what I seem. I am an open book to any who care to read closely,” he whispered, mere inches from your face. He straightened and your eyes followed his. “Those who see that, don’t often call me ‘na-Baron’ every time they speak. Though I understand the risk one takes with using my name. I am quite…. impulsive.” And that smile again. This time with a touch of fondness in his eyes that suggested he was recalling a pleasant memory. Though you couldn’t imagine that murdering someone for using your given name would be pleasant. From what you knew of Feyd, he probably had done just such a thing.
“How might those who ‘read closely’ decipher your enigmatic smile?” Finding your voice, you spoke directly at him. This made him grin even more, showing his black teeth.
“Perhaps that may always be a game of guessing,” he quipped back. He took a step away from you and waited for you to follow. Your heart was almost pounding in your chest. You walked beside him, but allowing yourself to have some distance to think by staying one step behind. You tried not to stare at the slope of his head down to his neck, his hands, the only visible parts of his body. But they seemed to glow against the black cloth of his coat.
Neither of you spoke for a moment. The silence was tense but not uncomfortable. You weren’t sure you could guess anything about him. Your first appraisal of him may have been entirely incorrect, or mostly.
The main house sprawled, much like a palace though more understated. You knew the halls and passages by heart, but you weren’t guiding Feyd. You followed him without thinking. Your instinct told you to gather yourself and head directly to your chambers without a backward glance. Your curiosity was stronger than your instinct. Curious about him, yes, but also curious as to why he was so interested in you.
Feyd didn’t stop as he opened the door and entered his room. You paused, waiting for an invitation. He held the door and looked at you, no expression on his face. Your choice he seemed to suggest. He didn’t hold out his hand in a welcoming gesture either. You took one more breath to make your decision.
His room was probably a drastic change for him from his home on Giedi Prime. He had been given a guest room fitting of his station. The sumptuous fabrics and ornate furniture were more grand than those in your own quarters. You paused near the middle of the room. If he sat you would join him. He didn’t.
He stepped in front of you, looking, not speaking, and you felt that damnable blush rise to your cheeks again.
“If I may,” he began. “I’ll answer your question.”
You tried to nod but couldn’t. Your mouth was as dry as Arrakis.
“No, I did not want to be trapped at that farce, the quiet tension so palpable one could cut it with a knife. I was thinking of all the things I had in mind for you.” He took a small step forward and tilted your face up to his, fingers guiding your chin. His eyes were fierce and you saw no mocking in his slight smile now.
“Then you were correct, your answer would have been quite improper,” you managed to reply, mustering the last of your propriety.
“Yes,” he drawled. “Yes, then it would have been improper, but we’re alone now.” He swept his hand, indicating the empty room but he didn’t look away from you. He didn’t wait for your to respond. “You aren’t deferential to me like the others in your house. You are… intriguing. As I sat next to you, I decided I wanted you and I get what I want. Always.”
Your body tensed as he leaned forward and kissed you. At first you were rigid, unsure of what you truly wanted, but as one of his hands found the back of your neck you realized you had actually wanted this all along. Still wary of him, you kissed him back but did not move to touch him. His other hand slid to your waist and gripped you firmly, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothing. You exhaled and softened in his arms. You felt his smile against your lips. You assumed it was a triumphant grin but set your pride aside and opened your mouth to him.
Feyd’s tongue slipped into your mouth. His hand gripped the back of your neck harder. You placed your hands on his chest, tentatively, testing this new closeness. He slid his hand from your side to your back and pulled you in closer. You didn’t want the kiss to end but he pulled away and looked at you.
“Was that so bad?” he ask, finally without a grin.
You could only shake your head as your heart thumped in your chest. You moved your hands upward, slowly, to his neck. Using both your hands, you pulled him back down to your mouth. A small groan left his mouth and he pressed his body against yours. You licked his black teeth, growing braver. You still felt hesitant, nervous, even a little frightened. You had experience, you weren’t shy, but those were with people from your home planet. He was a Harkonnen. Completely hairless, scarily pale, and notoriously cruel. Something about the combination of those thoughts made you press against him in return.
His lips left your mouth and he drug them along your jaw, down your neck, the graze of teeth making you shiver. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, resisting the need to move your hips against him. Patience, you thought.
Without warning, Feyd let you go. Suddenly, his arms were gone. Then he spun you around so your back pressed into his chest. He wasn’t going to be patient. He clamped one hand on your throat and rested the other on the lowest part of your stomach. His lips grazed your ear and his breath was hot as he spoke.
“Are you going to give me what I want?”
“Yes,” you replied though you weren’t sure the sound was audible.
“Say my name.”
“Yes, Feyd,” you swallowed, feeling his hand move on your throat as you did. “Anything you want.”
He chuckled at this, the sound vibrating into you from his chest. His grip on your throat wasn’t tight but it held you in place as he slid his hand farther down your stomach. You didn’t let yourself moan as his hand grazed your thigh but you involuntarily moved your hips. You didn’t want him to take his time. Your need was getting the better of you. This seemed to be happening so fast, yet it had truly begun at dinner. Your desire had been growing with every step toward this room.
Feyd kissed just behind your ear, down your neck, as his hand dipped between your thighs. You knew he could feel your arousal even through your clothing. You wanted to push against his hand and gain more friction. He continued to tease, up and down, but then his hand slipped under your clothing. His touch on your bare skin elicited a groan from you. He released your throat and used both hands to free you from the garments.
You were momentarily embarrassed at your sudden nakedness but that was pushed out of your thoughts when he put his mouth on your shoulder blades, kissing each in turn. You began to turn to face him but he stilled you with his hands. You looked over your shoulder as he tossed his coat onto a chair and pulled his shirt over his head. He was actually magnificent you realized. He was hailed as a great fighter but you understood now it was more than skill, it was also strength. You watched him take his place behind you again then turned to face front once more.
You realized Feyd wasn’t just clever, he was always a step ahead of everyone. When you had entered the room you had been so anxious that you only took a cursory glance around the space. However, he had maneuvered you to stand in front of the bed. Now that you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. He was kissing your spine, your ribs, letting his hands explore everywhere but where you needed him. You took a deep breath and instead of the exhale you expected you moaned. He kissed his way up your back and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“I take it you are no longer confused by me?”
“Quite the opposite,” you replied. You moved your hands behind you, finding his hips, and pulled him to you, back to chest again. It was infuriating that he still had his pants on. You slipped your fingertips under the waistband. Even half-clothed his erection was obvious against your backside.
Feyd gently pressed your arms to your sides and you felt immediate disappointment. But then he began to unfasten his pants. The heat from your body flooded to your core. The need, the ache, that had been growing there was now fully aflame. You felt one of his hands rest gently on your hip when he came back to you. Seeming to keep a bit of space between, you he guided your forward until you were only inches from the bed. His hand slid up your side, to your chest encircling you. You sighed again. His mouth explored and made its way back to your ear.
“Lick,” he commanded, holding his other hand in front of your face. It took a moment for you to understand and another moment for you to summon the courage to follow the command. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In a spilt second he made you feel like you were doing something wonderful yet illicit. It thrilled you and, as soon as your brain sent the signal, you lapped at his palm. He made a sound like a chuckle, but deeper. You pleased him.
You couldn’t see but you heard Feyd stroke his cock with his recently wetted hand. You whined. Not a moan but an actual, involuntary whine. The waiting was excruciating even if you couldn’t predict his actions, whatever was to come would surely feel amazing.
Feyd’s hand moved from your chest around to your back, rested gently between your shoulder blades, and began to press you forward. With your heart racing you leaned forward, placing your hands on the bed.
“Such a good pet,” he growled. You would have blushed if there had been any blood left in your body. It was currently all pooled in your core, throbbing with that need for him. He slid his hand down your back and gripped your hip. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt his cock between your thighs. You couldn’t control yourself and you pushed back a bit, trying to feel more of him. He gently held you in place. He moved so slowly, teasing you with his length. When he had the angle he wanted he put his hand on your other hip and pressed against you.
It was so slow. Every movement was wonderful torture. You tried not to push against him, so you pressed your face against the bed and groaned. He pulled back and began pressing into you again. You realized he hadn’t yet given you his full length and you gasped as he bottomed out. Over your breathing you heard the most delicious sound come from him. It was a groan, perhaps a word, but certainly a sound of extreme pleasure. Now, you did push back into him.
You looked over your shoulder as you ground your hips slightly and his eyes were open, watching your ass. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his mouth was slightly open. You had never seen anything so beautiful, so unique, in your life. Before you could appreciate him any longer he pulled back, started a new stroke, and caught your eye. He winked at you, cocky yet comforting.
You couldn’t take it, you buried your face in the bed clothes, overcome with desire. This man was your undoing. Just as that thought flickered in your mind Feyd increased his pace. With steady movement he brought forth a litany of noises from you. As he sped up you moaned and pushed back onto him. His low, rumbling groans were intoxicating.
Feyd’s hands roamed up from your hips, over your back, around to your stomach, ceaselessly exploring you. When he leaned forward, pressing his stomach along your back you reached behind you and grasped his arm. Pulling him down on you by his forearm, then traveling up to his bicep. Your fingers dug into his muscle His rested his forehead against your shoulder.
You felt the pressure building in your core from the consistent rhythm. You were lightheaded, dizzy with the feeling of Feyd’s weight on top of you, his scent, his sounds. Then a brightness shot through the fog as he reached around you and stroked the center of your heat. You made an undignified sound.
“Please, yes, there,” you groaned, unable to decide if you wanted to press forward into his hand or back to meet his hips. “Please, Feyd, don’t stop.”
“Of course not,” he replied as he kissed your shoulder and stoked the heat in your belly. He growled against you as he sped up. Pounding into you, his hand between your legs, his body pressed against yours, Feyd dominated all of your senses. You had no thoughts. Only the growing pressure inside you.
“Wait for me,” he said quietly but firmly. You could barely nod, much less speak to answer him, as all your concentration was focused on holding back the cresting wave.
Feyd’s strokes were deep but quick. He grazed his teeth over your skin. His unoccupied hand dug into your hip so he could fuck you that much harder. Then you felt it. The stutter of his hips. His hand between your thighs sped up. A flood of heat ran over your entire body. At the same time, your core seemed to explode. His grunting made you cum that much harder.
He let out a final, deep moan, mingled with your name, and spilled his black seed inside you. You inhaled shakily, smiling to yourself. The lightheadedness was back and you felt emptied, completely hollowed out. You stayed still as he caught his breath. You tried to relax as he pulled out, but were unable to stifle a small gasp. You were ruined but never wanted this to end.
Feyd gently stroked your back and then began to guide you up, almost lifting you from the bed. When you were standing in front of him he kissed you on the forehead, then the lips. With his hand on the small of you back he led you to the side of the bed. He didn’t instruct you to lay down, you didn’t have a choice. There was no way you could remain standing on your shaking legs any longer. He covered you with the blanket then stepped away for a moment. Unable to keep your eyes open you listened for him.
He soon walked to the other side of the bed and slipped into it, pulling you against him. He tucked you as close to him as possible. He kissed your neck. Then nuzzled his face against you before resting his head close enough so you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.
“I always get what I want,” he whispered. Your lips curved into a gentle, satisfied smile.
1K notes · View notes
mydearlybeloathed · 2 months
Text
── 𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐙𝐌𝐎𝐒 𝐀-𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a mermaid, it's part of you nature to bring the object of your affection gifts in the hopes of swaying their gaze. how do these pirates handle your onslaught of treasures?
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nami, luffy, and sanji x mermaid!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k (.6k luffy, .4k nami, .6k sanji)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mermaid!reader, continuation of this fic, requested
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LUFFY
When you first began to court Luffy via your pod’s traditions, you quickly realized you’d have to improvise; Luffy had no clue what any of your actions meant, no matter how obvious you made it.
You brought your captain countless gifts, ranging from perfect pearls to slightly chipped sand dollars, and each time all he did was smile, thank you, and skip away to add your gift to his growing collection.
This time, however, you would make sure he understood, lest your sanity slip away. 
He sat criss crossed on his special seat, the mast of the ship, and you stood on the deck with a pretty pink and blue conch shell in hand. Hopeful eyes set on the man you admired, you failed to notice Robin coming up beside you. She hummed softly, startling you. “Oh, hi.”
“He’ll like that one.” Robin smiled cheekily. “But you want my advice?”
“Please.”
A chuckle left her as she looked on at her captain. “Be as straightforward as you can. Ask him what his feelings are.”
Blinking widely, you gazed back at Luffy. That surely seemed easy enough. Steeling yourself with a sigh, you nodded once and trudged forward, up the stairs to the foredeck and all the way up to where the masthead met the deck. Words rose to your lips and fell short, breath caught by the way the wind and sun sat around him like good friends. Luffy sat leaned back on his hands, eyes gently shut, easy smile on his face. You couldn’t dare to break such a moment, not till you nearly dropped the shell and let slip a little yelp. 
Luffy reacted instantly, tilting back his head to see what was the matter. He grinned upon seeing you, sending jitters through your belly. “Hey!” His eyes lowered to the conchshell tight in your grasp, jabbing a finger at it. “What’s that?”
He already knew it was for him; Luffy grew to look forward to your random gifts, treasuring them in his quarters and spending a little time each morning just admiring them. 
You glanced down at your gift, mustering up your courage and hoping beyond hoping that he’ll finally understand. “It’s for you. I found it this morning.”
Found was an understatement. You’d scoured the seafloor all morning to find something worthy of bestowing upon your love. Luffy beamed even brighter, if possible. “Really?” He slid off the mast and landed right in front of you. 
Luffy’s eyes shown like stars, his lips slightly parted as he ghosted his hands over the silky surface of the shell. You passed it on to his caloused hands, skin sparking as his fingers slid against yours. You stood transfixed upon him and how gently he handled the gift, turning it this way and that to see every nook and cranny, leaving no part of it unknown. A sharp ba-dump ba-dump echoed in your chest.
“It’s great,” he breathed, raising his eyes to peer into yours. Soft wasn’t a word one would use to describe Luffy. Brash and loud, yes. But not soft. Yet, there was this secret shadow of him that was softer beyond compare, only revealed in moments of deep distress… or right now, when you hand him a piece of your heart.
You felt a soft prod at your back, hand lunging back to catch a phantom wrist. You quickly released Robin’s hand, whipping around to spy her, but she was nowhere in sight. Puffing your cheeks, you swiveled back just to find Luffy leaning close over your shoulder, eyes squinted. “What’re we looking for?”
“N-Nothing.” Gazing into his face, you coiled your fists. “Luffy, I have a question.” 
Instantly, all his attention was on you, pleasantly awaiting. “Mhmm?”
“I… I was wondering… do—do you—do you like… tangerines?”
Luffy blinked a little blankly, before shrugging a shoulder. “Yeah, I like ‘em. What an odd question.” He ruffled up your hair and hurried off. “I’m gonna add this to my collection. Thanks a bunch!”
“Yeah… no problem.” Cupping yoru face in your hands, you groaned disparingly. Cracking open an eye, you found a single arm sprouting from the deck rail sporting a thumb’s up of comfort. 
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NAMI
The gifts had been a constant before you and Nami made it official, but after? Nami was running out of room to keep all the nick-nacks you showered her with. She’d never tell you that though, the smile on your face each time you offered up a gift a treasure in itself.
So Nami settled for becoming the ship’s interior decorator, making it a project to find the best places to present your increasingly beautiful finds. 
Hanging from the wall in the galley was a giant piece of seaglass wrapped in fishing net. On the kitchen table an array of shells sat in a decorative bowl. Each of the boys had a whole sand dollar they were not allowed to touch on the their bed table.
It took you a few weeks to notice it, with the decorations growing over time, but when you did a surprised yet excited beam took you face. You noticed the solid pink clam shell you’d found a month ago among the table decorations, immediately whirling on Nami with a bright smile. “I found that, didn’t I?”
She was worried you’d be upset with her decorating, but now you coudln’t have looked happier. Nami’s cheeks reddened as she laughed, nodding. “You did. I thought I’d put some of your treasures around so we can all admire them.”
You shot up from the table and bounded off. “How many more are there? Did you hide them?”
Nami watched misty eyed, heart warm as the sound of your voice echoed back to the galley. Robin chuckled behind her hand, winking when Nami caught her eye. Nami blushed deeper and, flustered, got up to chase after you.
After that, she really set out to hide the gifts you brought her, tucking them between books and pans. Your search grew to be a calm sort of game. You would be lying in a hammock by Nami’s side, her reading a book aloud, when you lazily pointed to the bookshelf and murmured, “There’s the blue one I got last week.”
The whole crew even joined in after a while, and a board was set up in the galley to tally the scores. Even after four months of the treasure hide-and-seek, you came out on top with the most finds, and if someone dared to come close to taking your title? Well, you reminded them that you have two rows of razor-sharp teeth, and suddenly you were champion once again.
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SANJI Sanji treasures each and every gift you bring him, to the point where his nose starts to bleed every other trinket. He doesn’t love the gifts a normal amount, okay. He will set them up all over the kitchen and randomly point them out to anyone nearby.
“Look at that one! She had to have dove down so many depths to get it. Ah~”
“Mosshead, get your slimy, bottom-feeder hands away from my seashells.”
Everyone knew to treat your gifts to Sanji with immense care, and that fact sent a wave of pride through your heart. You sat at the kitchen counter watching him cook, lining up the shells just to admire them, every once in a while making them into the shape of a heart and sending him into cardiac arrest. 
Oh, but the gift he’s most proud of? It’s the one he wears round his neck every single day.
The first pearl you brought him was a small thing, around the size of a pinky, and you handed it to him shyly while saying you couldn’t find a bigger one to display. Sanji barely breathed, rolling it in his palm and just thinking of how lucky he is to have you, that you would dive down into the sea just to find him the most beautiful treasures. 
Yes, it was part of your culture, so part of this was customary to you, but after each of his lovely reactions your gift-giving grew into more of a habit of the heart, eyes always peeled for any trinket Sanji might enjoy. So when you noticed how he held the pearl with such care, the milky white of it looking so nice against his palm, you got an idea.
Every single morning for the next two months you gathered pearl after pearl, keeping them in a little box under your bed. Sneakily, you even managed to take the original pearl from the ring box Sanji kept it in. The scare it gave him when he awoke, turned to his bed table, and his prized gift from his lovely mermaid was missing?? He was inconsolable, so much so that you rushed to give him his gift a day earlier, giggling as you cut off his apologies.
“It’s okay,” you beamed, handing him a small paper wrapped object. “I think this will fix it.”
You bounced on your heels as Sanji sat down at the counter and delicately handled the paper, revealing the pearl necklace within. For the longest moment, he said nothing at all, only staring down at it blankly. You ducked to catch more of his expression, worrying your lip between your teeth. “Do you like it?”
Sanji’s lips ticked upward, eyes holding so much affection you could feel it hit you as he raised his gaze. “I love it. Thank you, my love.”
You couldn’t hold back the magnitude of your smile, reached to help him put it on. As soon as the cool pearls hit his skin, he felt a sense of wholeness only you could explain. He ran a finger over the necklace, wiping away a trail of blood with his wrist, and turned to take you in his arms. 
From that day forth, he never took the necklace off. 
Sanji never wasted a moment he could show it off, unbuttoning the tops of his shirts so it was more visible. You were more than pleased by this, hanging off his arm as you swept through markets, casting every admiring woman a lethal glare before reaching to toy with the pearls around his neck.
Let’s just say the gift satisfied a more possessive part of your nature you did your best to hide from your lover.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:
@100520s
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stylesispunk · 3 months
Text
'You gave me something to lose'
Joel Miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.
wc: 4k>
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.
a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌
dividerers by @/saradika-graphics
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Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.
Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.
when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.
And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.
And he was frightened.
Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.
Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.
And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.
And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.
The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.
You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”
Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”
You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”
You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”
“Why?”
“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”
Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”
“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”
He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”
Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."
He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”
You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”
Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”
“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”
He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.
“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.
“For letting me in. For trusting me.”
Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.
He felt his heart giving up for you.
That had happened a few months ago.
And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.
During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.
He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.
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The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.
Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"
"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"
Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."
Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"
Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."
You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"
Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."
You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."
The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.
Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.
"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."
Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.
"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.
Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."
You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."
He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”
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Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.
When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.
Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.
Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.
"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.
Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.
“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.
Joel nodded.
Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."
Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."
Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."
Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"
Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."
Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."
Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."
"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."
Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"
Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."
Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."
Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."
Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."
Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.
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Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.
“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.
He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.
“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.
Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.
“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.
Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”
Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”
Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”
Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”
Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”
Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”
Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”
Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”
Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”
Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”
Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”
Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”
He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.
With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.
As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.
You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.
"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"
Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."
Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"
Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"
You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."
Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."
You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""
Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”
Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."
Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."
You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."
Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.
You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"
As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.
After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”
You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."
Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.
Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.
Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”
You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”
He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.
You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."
He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.
Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.
Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.
He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.
"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.
You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.
Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.
You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."
After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.
He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.
When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.
For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.
When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.
You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."
He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.
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As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.
Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.
You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.
Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."
You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."
Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."
Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."
You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."
He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."
You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."
Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."
You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."
With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.
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Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.
"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.
He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.
When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.
"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.
He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."
You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."
He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."
You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."
He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."
You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."
He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."
"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."
He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."
He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.
You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."
The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.
As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.
"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.
Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.
You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.
"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."
You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."
Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."
The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.
As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."
Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.
With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.
"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.
As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.
In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.
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